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American  Dramatists  Series 

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American  Dramatists  Series 

TEMPTED   IN   ALL 
POINTS 

A  HISTORICAL  PLAY  IN  THREE 
ACTS     AND     THREE     VISIONS 

RALPH  HALL  FERRIS 


JESHUA    BAR- JOSEPH    saith :      Blessed    are    the 
pure  in  heart;    for  they  shall  see  GOD. 

— The  Words  of  Jeshua  bar-Joseph. 


BOSTON:  THE  GORHAM  PRESS 

TORONTO:      THE    COPP   CLARK   CO.,    LIMITED 


Copyright,  1915,   by  Ralph  Hall  Ferris 


All   Rights   Reserved 


THE  GORHAM  PRESS,  BOSTON,  U.  S.  A. 


WHEN  THE  HOLY  THINGS  OF  LIFE 
HAVE  SHATTERED  FOR  YOU  IN  BIT 
TER  DISILLUSION  *  OR  THE  TASTE 
OF  LIFE  HAS  CLOYED  UPON  YOUR 
TONGUE  *  OR  ITS  HARSH  UNCER 
TAINTIES  HAVE  MADE  YOU  FLIPPANT 
OF  TRUTH  *  *  TAKE  HEART  *  AND 
LIFT  UP  YOUR  EYES  UPON  HIM  * 
THE  SON  OF  MAN  *  *  WHO  IN  THE 
FULNESS  OF  HIS  MANHOOD  HALLOW 
ED  ALL  LIFE  *  IN  THE  COURAGE 
OF  HIS  LIVING  MADE  LIFE  TO  TASTE 
EVER  FRESH  *  AND  IN  THE  FEARLESS 
NESS  OF  HIS  DEATH  MADE  TRUTH 
TO  BE  BOTH  GREAT  AND  TRUE. 


372221 


PEOPLE  OF  THE  PLAY 


JESHUA  BAR- JOSEPH  saith:  ^hereunto  shall  I 
liken  this  generation?  It  is  like  unto  children  sitting 
in  the  marketplaces  who  call  unto  their  fellows  and 
say : 

'We  piped  unto  you,  and  ye  did  not  dance; 
We  wailed,  and  ye  did  not  mourn' 

— The  Words  of  Jeshua  bar-Joseph 


PEOPLE  OF  THE  PLAY 

JESHUA  BAR- JOSEPH,  a  prophet  of  Galilee,  by  his 

disciples  called  the  'Master  . 
JUDAS  BAR-SYMEON,  a  noble  of  Kerioth-Judah,  his 

disciple. 
SYMEON  BAR- JONAH,  a  fisherman  of  Kapharnahum, 

Galilee,  another  disciple. 
JACOB  BAR-ZEBEDIAH          \brothers,  Galilean  fish- 

JOCHANAN    BAR-ZEBEDIAHJerraew,    tWO    disciples. 

Eight  Disciples,  Galileans,  who  with  the  preceding 

jour  are  known  as  'The  Twelve' . 
CAIAPHAS,  high  priest  at  Jerusalem. 
ANNAS,  a  former  highpriest,  father-in-law  to  Caia- 

phas. 

AMRAPHEL,  captain  of  the  Temple  Guards. 
^MILIANUS,  captain  of  the  Procurator  s  Guard. 
MALACHI,  a  gardener  of  Paneas. 
ZERUEL,  an  old  man  of  Jerusalem. 
RUTH  BATH-ABIHU,  niece  to  Annas. 
ABIGAIL,  her  maid. 
Hawker,  Beggar,  Priests,  Levites,  Pharisees,  Temple 

Guards,  Men  of  Israel,  Women  of  Israel. 


In  addition  to  the  preceding  the  following  People 

appear  in  the  Visional'. — 

Voice   from   Heaven. 

Dove. 

Angels,  Children,  Outcasts  of  Society,  Two  Crimi 
nals,  Roman  Centurion,  Roman  Soldiers,  Other 
Men,  Other  Women. 


ACT  I 
THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 


JESHUA  BAR-JOSEPH  saith:  If  any  man  would 
come  after  me,  let  him  deny  himself  and  take  up  his 
cross  and  follow  me;  for  whosoever  would  save  his 
life  shall  lose  it,  and  whosoever  shall  lose  his  life  for 
my  sake  shall  save  it. 

JESHUA  BAR- JOSEPH  saith:  There  is  nothing 
covered  up  that  shall  not  be  uncovered,  and  hid,  that 
shall  not  be  known. 

JESHUA  BAR- JOSEPH  saith:  Whosoever  shall  ac 
knowledge  the  Son  of  Adam  before  men,  him  shall 
the  Son  of  Adam  also  acknowledge  before  the  angels 
of  God;  but  whosover  shall  disown  the  Son  of  Adam 
before  men,  him  shall  the  Son  of  Adam  also  disown 
before  the  angels  of  God. 

— The  Words  of  Jeshua  bar-Joseph 


ACT  I 
THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

The  Garden  of  the  Strangers,  a  semi-public  pleas 
ure  garden  below  Mount  Hermon  near  Paneas,  a 
village  otherwise  known  to  the  Romans  as  Philip's 
Ccesarea;  a  fortnight  or  so  before  the  Passover  in  the 
sixteenth  year  of  the  reign  of  Tiberius,  Emperor  of 
Rome. 

The  garden  nestles  in  the  shelter  of  a  rocky  moun 
tain  spur  that  closes  it  in  on  the  left,  and  looks  out 
over  a  valley  to  the  huge  snow-capped  shoulder  of 
Mount  Hermon  in  the  distance.  Below  Hermon 
and  nearer  a  sheer  limestone  cliff  looks  almost  direct 
ly  into  the  garden,  its  brow  just  peering  over  the 
thorn  hedge  in  bloom  that  shuts  the  garden  in  from 
the  roadway.  Fortunately  the  hedge  has  a  wide 
break  in  the  center,  flanked  by  acacias,  disclosing  the 
dirt  roadway  and  the  bold  cliff.  Through  this  open 
ing  one  can  see  that  a  small  Greek  temple  stands  al 
most  on  the  very  edge  of  the  latter.  The  cliff  face 
shows  marks  of  disintegration,  caused  doubtless  by 
the  numerous  springs  which  break  out  in  the  cavern 
at  its  foot,  although,  unless  one  stands  on  the  road 
way,  the  springs  are  invisible. 

In  the  garden  a  sparkling  spring  breaks  out  of  the 
rude  rock  a  little  above  the  garden  level  and  plashes 
into  a  shallow  pool  with  a  subterranean  outlet.  A 
small  colonnaded  pavilion  or  summer-house  of  stone 
incloses  the  spring  and  pool.  The  floor  of  the  pavil^ 
II 


T2  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

ion  is  of  stone  and  slightly  elevated  above  the  garden 
level,  to  which  it  leads  by  two  or  three  stone  steps. 
On  either  side  of  the  spring  two  stone  benches  are 
roughly  hewn  out  of  the  natural  rock  and  a  rude 
stone  table  stands  by  the  bench  back  of  the  spring 
toward  the  roadway.  Beds  of  tulips,  lilies  of  the 
valley  and  other  flowers  fill  the  space  below  the 
pavilion  on  either  side  of  the  steps.  Directly  across 
from  the  pavilion  is  the  gardener  s  lodge,  opening  on 
to  the  garden  by  a  door  and  a  latticed  window.  A 
single  step  leads  from  the  door  to  the  garden  level, 
and  a  bed  of  various  flowers  graces  the  space  beloiv 
the  window.  Sycamores  grow  between  the  hedge 
and  lodge,  and  a  cypress  spreads  its  shade  beneath  the 
pavilion  and  hedge,  when  there  is  sun.  A  bench  may 
be  seen  under  the  cypress  facing  toward  the  lodge. 
An  oleander  may  also  be  seen,  rather  more  promi 
nent,  however,  than  the  bench,  since  it  stands  just 
this  side  of  the  lodge  door.  Grass  grows  between  the 
various  flower  beds  and  the  hedge. 

It  is  afternoon  of  a  cloudy  day,  and  one  may  notice 
over  the  mountain  a  possibility  of  the  sky  clearing. 

No  person  is  seen  in  the  garden;  but  before  long 
a  roving  eye  will  discover  that  the  single  step  of  the 
lodge  is  not  entirely  unoccupied;  for  on  it  may  be 
seen  a  pair  of  worn  sandals,  probably  left  by  some 
one  now  within  the  lodge.  The  surmise  is  justified 
by  the  slow  opening  of  the  lodge  door  inwards.  As 
it  opens,  Malachi  appears.  He  is  a  typical  Israelite 
of  the  dull  peasant  class,  slow,  slightly  stooped,  full 
bearded,  gray  in  beard  and  hair,  showing  him  to  be 
past  middle  age.  He  is  bare-headed  and  barefoot, 
and  is  clothed  in  the  usual  kethoneth,  a  sort  of  tunic, 


ACT  I  13 

of  rough  wool,  gathered  about  the  waist  by  a  cord 
girdle.  What  its  original  color  was  is  not  now  dis- 
cernible,  but  it  might  have  been  a  brown  stripe  in 
two  or  three  shades.  He  is  carrying  a  wicker  basket 
of  dried  fruits  and  a  drinking  cup.  He  slips  his  feet 
into  the  sandals  on  the  step,  enters  the  garden,  ex 
amines  the  sky  overhead  and  over  the  cliff,  walks 
leisurely  to  the  pavilion  and  enters  it. 

At  this  point  a  woman's  sweet  clear  voice  begins 
to  sing  off  stage  as  if  she  were  approaching  from  be 
yond  the  lodge  and  continues  to  sing  until  her  en 
trance.  At  the  sound  of  her  voice  Malachi  looks  up 
with  a  fatherly  smile,  places  the  cup  and  basket  on 
the  pavilion  table,  steps  again  into  the  garden  and 
passes  toward  the  lodge,  this  time  nearer  the  hedge. 
He  looks  off  through  the  sycamores,  smiling  as  if 
seen,  and  reenters  the  lodge,  only  to  return  imme 
diately  with  a  pruning  knife  and  trowel,  with  which 
he  goes  to  the  flower-bed  this  side  of  the  pavilion 
steps.  With  a  deft  movement  he  gathers  the  flowing 
kethoneth  between  his  legs  and  tucks  the  ends  in  his 
girdle  in  front,  thus  presenting  the  appearance  of 
loose  trousers  formed  from  the  skirts  of  the  ketho 
neth.  He  then  kneels  and  busies  himself  with  weed 
ing.  All  this  time  the  Voice  has  been  singing  the 
words  of  a  popular  peasant  ballad. 

VOICE   (sings  off  stage). 
'Rise  up,  my  love,  my  fair  one,  and  come  away  ; 

For  lo  the  winter  is  past, 

The  rain  is  over  and  gone, 

The  flowers  appear  on  the  earth, 

The  time  of  the  singing  of  birds  is  come, 
And  the  voice  of  the  turtle-dove  is  heard  in  the  land.' 


i4  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

Abigail  enters  under  the  sycamores.  She  is  a 
fresh,  pretty  and  vivacious  peasant  girl  not  yet  out 
of  her  'teens,  well  aware  of  her  physical  charms  and 
therefore  instinctively  something  of  a  coquet,  a  little 
sophisticated  no  doubt  by  service  in  the  city,  but  not 
yet  artificial  or  insincere.  Her  dress,  which  is  of 
some  simple  bright-colored  stuff  that  contrasts  effec 
tively  with  her  dark  hair  and  eyes,  betrays  by  its 
shortness  her  servile  position  and  consequently  re 
veals  small  bare  well  formed  ankles  and  light  leather 
sandals.  A  small  cloth  purse,  suspended  by  a  slight 
cord  around  her  neck,  is  concealed  in  the  loose  open 
folds  of  her  dress  over  her  bosom.  Her  hair  is  loose 
ly  coiled  on  top  of  her  head  and  contains  a  plain  orna 
ment  or  two.  She  stops  singing  at  sight  of  her  father. 

ABIGAIL.     Here  you  are! 

MALACHI.     Eh,  you,  daughter? 

She  runs  to  him  behind  and  pats  his  cheek  mother- 
ingly. 

ABIGAIL.  Same  old  daddy!  Don't  you  ever  tire 
of  your  beloved  garden?  Ugh,  I  couldn't  live  here 
a  month ! 

She  goes  to  the  hedge  opening  and  looks  off  toward 
the  cliff,  as  her  father  turns  his  head  and  looks  after 
her  affectionately.  He  then  resumes  weeding. 

MALACHI.  You  like  Jerusalem  so  much  then? 
Mistress  is  good  to  you  there? 

ABIGAIL.  Oh  mistress  Ruth  knows  how  to  have 
a  good  time.  (She  sings.} 

!Awake,  O  north  wind,  and  come,  thou  south! 
Blow  upon  my  garden, 
That  its  fragrance  may  flow  out. 


ACT  I  15 

Let  my  beloved  come  into  his  garden 
And  eat  his  precious  fruits.' 

Does  the  sun  never  shine  here?  See,  the  cliffs 
still  crumbling  into  the  cave.  I  wonder  how  long  it 
will  last.  And  then  Pan's  temple  will  fall.  By  the 
way,  mistress  wishes  some  tulips. 

MALACHI.     Directly,  daughter. 

He  begins  to  select  and  cut  tulips.  At  the  same 
time  Abigail  comes  toward  the  pavilion,  stoops  to 
pick  a  lily  of  the  valley,  and  her  purse  slips  out  of 
her  bosom  and  swings  free.  She  catches  it  with  her 
left  hand,  picks  the  lily  with  her  right,  and  stands 
up,  holding  out  the  purse  toward  Malachi. 

ABIGAIL.  Look,  daddy;  a  whole  month's  wages 
today ! 

She  slips  the  purse  into  her  bosom,  puts  the  lily 
in  her  hair,  sings  gaily  and  as  she  sings  sits  on  the 
pavilion  steps. 

ABIGAIL   (sings). 

1  am  a  rose  of  Sharon, 
A  lily  of  the  valley.' 

MALACHI.     Mistress  will  live  here  now? 

ABIGAIL  (laughs  merrily).  Here?  Ha,  ha!  (She 
spies  the  basket  of  fruit.)  H'm,  wonder  what  she'll 
do  when  she  sees  all  the  beggars  running  in  here  for 
fruit.  (She  rises,  enters  the  pavilion  and  takes  a 
fig.)  That  was  a  pretty  story  you  told  her  yester 
day  about  her  father  always  keeping  this  garden  open 
to  strangers.  I  warrant,  though,  she'd  stop  it  if  she 
were  to  stay  here  long. 

MALACHI.     Nonsense,  Abigail;  young  mistress  is 


16  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

too  good  to  do  that. 

ABIGAIL.  You  don't  know  mistress.  Pah,  she 
doesn't  care  a  carob  for  the  custom.  It's  only  she 
sees  your  heart  is  set  on  it  that  she  lets  you  keep  it  up. 
(She  takes  another  fig  and  turns  to  come  down  into 
the  garden.)  Lucky  for  you  she's  going  back  in  a 
day  or  two;  else  she  might  turn  all  the  beggars  and 
worse  out. 

MALACHI.     God  forbid!     The  tulips  are  ready. 

She  steps  down  to  him  and  pats  him  affectionately 
on  the  cheek. 

ABIGAIL.  Same  old  daddy.  To  keep  fruit  here 
for  strangers,  mostly  beggars  though,  is  your  religion. 
You're  a  wee  bit  old-fashioned.  Why  not  come  to 
the  City?  Mistress  needs  another  gardener: 

She  takes  the  flowers,  crosses  the  garden  to  the 
lodge  and  sitting  on  the  step,  munches  the  fig.  Mal- 
achi  shakes  his  head  slowly,  goes  to  the  other  flower 
bed  beyond  the  pavilion  step  and  begins  weeding  it. 

MALACHI.  This  garden  is  good  enough  for  me. 
Why  doesn't  mistress  stay  here? 

ABIGAIL.  What's  to  do,  who's  to  see  here  ?  Jeru 
salem's  the  world  with  its  dinners  and  games. 

MALACHI.  Games?  Surely  mistress  has  nothing 
to  do  with  the  games? 

ABIGAIL  (laughs).   You   don't   know  Jerusalem! 

MALACHI.  But  Israelites  don't  go  to  heathen 
games. 

ABIGAIL.  Oh,  the  rabbis  rave  against  the  heath 
en  customs  Romans  have  introduced ;  but  the  rest  are 
mostly  glad,  I  think.  Sometimes  I  almost  wish  our 


ACT  I  17 

gloomy  religion  had  in  it  a  little  more  of — Pan. 

MALACHI.     You  can  say  that,  my  daughter? 

ABIGAIL.  Why  not?  Old  Herod  was  right  in 
building  that  temple  to  Pan. 

She  points  to  the  temple  on  the  cliff. 

MALACHI.     But  he  was  an  Idumean. 

ABIGAIL.  What  of  that?  Of  course,  there  isn't 
any  Pan.  Still  his  is  a  merry  religion. 

MALACHI.  Hush,  child ;  don't  be  corrupted  by 
Rome.  Israel  must  hate  his  oppressors. 

ABIGAIL.    I  wonder,  does  mistress  hate  them  all? 

MALACHI.  Certainly  she  must,  as  a  true  daugh 
ter  of  Israel. 

ABIGAIL  (laughs).  A  daughter  of  Israel,  true 
enough!  You  ought  to  approve  of  her.  She  keeps 
up  the  tradition  of  hospitality  to  strangers,  some 
strangers  at  any  rate,  tra-la! 

MALACHI.     Eh,  I  don't  follow  you. 

ABIGAIL.  Oh  daddy,  you're  so  stupid!  H'm, 
think  I'd  better  say  nothing,  might  shock  you,  h'm. 

MALACHI.  Eh-eh,  you're  not  meaning  anything 
against  mistress?  Why  shouldn't  she  receive  stran 
gers  as  her  father  did  ? 

ABIGAIL  (looks  up).  Ah,  we'll  have  sun  after 
all.  (She  rises.)  But  suppose  the  strangers  are — 
Romans? 

MALACHI.  Romans?  Ye-es,  hospitality  even  to 
them — until  the  Day  of  Deliverance. 

ABIGAIL.  And,  of  course,  hospitality  isn't  com 
plete  without  breaking  bread  with  them? 


18  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

MALACHI.  Moses  forbids.  But  food  may  be  set 
before  them  without  sin. 

ABIGAIL.    But  mistress  and  ^Emilianus — 

MALACHI.     A  Roman? 

ABIGAIL.  Captain  of  Pilate's  guard.  What  if 
they — 

MALACHI.     You  know  that's  impossible. 

ABIGAIL  (laughs).  Impossible?  But  may  be  the 
Roman  and  she  don't — tra-la-la-la ! 

MALACHi(</ro/>s-  his  implements) .  Enough,  daugh 
ter  ;  not  another  word  against  mistress !  You  are  mis 
taken. 

ABIGAIL.  Daddy,  don't  be  shocked!  Let  us  say 
it  is  a  mistake.  Yet  why  has  she  left  Jerusalem 
just  at  Passover  time,  do  you  think? 

MALACHI.     For  the  mountain  air,  she  says. 

ABIGAIL.  Oh,  the  mountain  air,  is  it?  Then 
she  doesn't  expect  to  see  some  one  here?  And  it's 
not  ^Emilianus  either. 

MALACHI.   I  have  heard  enough,  child ! 

ABIGAIL.  Don't  get  angry  now,  daddy  dear;  let 
us  say  it's  not  so.  Still,  we  do  things  differently  in 
Jerusalem.  You'll  see  soon  enough. 

A  Hawker  enters  along  the  roadway  from  the 
right,  as  yet  unperceived  by  the  two  in  the  garden. 
He  is  the  usual  run  of  vagrant  hawker,  servile,  im 
pudent,  ribald  and  talkative  as  the  occasion  serves. 
He  passes  for  young,  that  is,  he  is  not  so  old  but  he 
has  a  quick  eye  for  a  pretty  ankle  or  a  smiling  mouth. 
He  wears  a  close-fitting  turban  of  soiled  white  and 
is  clothed  in  a  yellow-striped  sarbalin,  or  flowing 


ACT  I  19 

breeches,  the  loose  folds  of  which  are  gathered  up  at 
present  and  tucked  into  his  faded  blue  sash  to  facili 
tate  his  progress.  A  soiled  white  sadin,  or  shirt,  is 
tucked  into  his  breeches  and  over  all  he  wears  a  soil 
ed  red  simlah,  a  sort  of  military  cloak.  His  feet  are 
bare  except  for  rough  leather  sandals.  On  his  back 
he  carries  a  pack  that  by  reason  of  its  dingy  cover 
ings  suggests  things  within  dear  to  a  country 
wench's  heart,  to  whom  the  city  lass  is  first  cousin. 
At  first  only  his  turban  and  pack  may  be  seen  over 
the  hedge  bobbing  along;  but  as  father  and  daughter 
continue  to  talk,  he  heaves  into  full  sight  at  the  open 
ing  and  looks  in. 

MALACHI  (shakes  his  head).  I  wish  mistress 
didn't  need  you  in  the  City. 

ABIGAIL.     It's  not  so  bad  as  that,  daddy  mine. 

As  she  turns  to  go  out  under  the  sycamores,  the 
Hawker  appears  at  the  hedge  opening  and  looks  in 
with  an  insolent  humility  that  is  lost  on  Malachi. 
Strangely  enough,  he  has  not  yet  perceived  Abigail. 
She,  hoiuever,  turns  back  on  hearing  his  voice,  appre 
ciates  his  insolence  and  looks  on  rather  amusedly  as 
he  speaks. 

HAWKER.  Good  father,  may  a  poor  hawker  rest 
his  worthless  body  in  this  noble  garden? 

While  he  fawns,  Malachi  rises  deliberately,  drops 
the  loose  folds  of  his  kethoneth  and  approaching  ad 
dresses  him  ceremoniously. 

MALACHI.  Come  in,  good  stranger.  Mistress 
keeps  this  garden  for  such  as  you. 

HAWKER.  Thanks,  good  father;  a  thousand 
blessings  on  your  head!  (He  has  already  entered 


20  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

the  garden  briskly  and  approached  the  pavilion;  but 
as  he  puts  his  foot  on  the  step  he  hesitates.)  Is  it 
permitted  ? 

MALACHI.     It  is  permitted;  enter. 

The  Hawker  enters  the  pavilion,  leaving  his  san 
dals  on  the  step,  casts  off  his  pack  with  a  sigh,  drops 
the  folds  of  his  sarbalin  from  the  sash  and  sits  down 
luxuriously  on  the  bench  this  side  of  the  spring.  His 
roving  eye  lights  on  the  fruit  and  he  leans  forward 
eagerly  to  inspect  it.  Meanwhile  Malachi  follows 
him  into  the  pavilion,  fills  the  drinking  cup,  takes 
up  the  basket  of  fruit  and  offers  both,  while  Abigail 
comes  to  the  center  of  the  garden  and  watches. 

MALACHI.  Drink  and  refresh  yourself  with 
these  dates  of  Smyrna  and  these  Damascene  figs. 

The  Hawker  drinks  and  greedily  snatches  up 
some  fruit. 

MALACHI.  Mistress  gains  merit  of  holiness  by 
your  acceptance  of  her  hospitality. 

HAWKER.     May  she  gain  much  merit! 

ABIGAIL.  Precious  little  you  care  for  her  merit, 
you  vagabond ! 

HAWKER  (surprised).  Ah,  she's  a  saucy  wench! 
Your  daughter? 

MALACHI.     My  daughter  Abigail. 

He  replaces  the  basket  and  cup  on  the  table,  goes 
down  into  the  garden,  gathers  up  the  loose  ends  of 
his  kethoneth  as  before,  and  resumes  weeding. 

HAWKER  (laughs).  Pretty,  too;  her  mistress 
could  be  no  fairer.  Come,  my  lily  among  thorns; 
see,  trinkets  and  treasures  to  grace  your  beauty. 


ACT  I  21 

Abigail  tosses  her  head  scornfully,  yet  pleased  in 
spite  of  herself,  and  as  he  quickly  opens  his  pack  and 
begins  to  display  his  wares,  she  is  mollified  and 
comes  reluctantly  forward. 

ABIGAIL.  Pooh,  worthless  stuff,  just  trash ;  what 
do  I  want  of  it? 

She  enters  the  pavilion  nevertheless  and  examines 
the  goods  eagerly,  before  long  laying  the  tulips  on 
the  table  so  as  to  have  both  hands  free.  As  he  talks 
he  rapidly  displays  his  stuffs. 

HAWKER.  But,  my  sweet,  you  needn't  buy; 
your  smile  is  reward  enough.  Look,  a  necklace  of 
coral  beads,  admired  and  blessed  by  Caiaphas  him 
self. 

ABIGAIL.     What  a  romance! 

HAWKER.  But  true.  Let  me  slip  it  around 
your  throat.  There,  see  how  it  lies  snug  and  beauti 
ful  on  the  warm  flesh.  And  this  love  charm,  I 
fasten  it  to  the  necklace.  Ah,  how  happily  it  slips 
into  hiding!  It  will  bring  many  lovers  where  it 
lies,  my  dove. 

ABIGAIL.     Tut-tut.     (She  sings.) 

'Let  him  kiss  me  with  the  kisses  of  his  mouth ; 
For  his  love  is  better  than  wine.* 

MALACHI.     If  only  she  would  marry! 

HAWKER.  She's  young,  good  father;  give  her 
time.  What's  this?  Ah,  earrings.  There,  put 
them  on  you,  little  bells  of  silver  under  the  pearl  of 
your  ears. 

ABIGAIL.     Brass,  you  mean. 

HAWKER.     You  grow  more  beautiful.    Now,  on 


22  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

with  these  bracelets,  quick,  to  the  elbow. 

Abigail  puts  the  bracelets  on  and  turns  her  head 
and  arms  in  admiration. 

HAWKER.     Ah,  here's  the  very  thing! 

He  unfolds  a  shawl  of  fine  texture.  In  her  ex 
citement  she  claps  her  hands,  snatches  it  from  him 
and  as  she  speaks  she  drapes  it  gracefully  over  her 
head  and  shoulders. 

ABIGAIL.  Oh-oh-oh!  Let  me  put  it  on,  let  me 
put  it  on! 

HAWKER.  Put  it  on,  my  beauty.  It  came  across 
the  deserts,  from  the  weavers  beyond  Iran.  Look, 
the  flash  of  gold  melting  into  azure  and  purple!  If 
only  the  sun  would  come  out  now.  Magic  weavers 
wove  the  rainbow  in  it,  to  deck  the  raven  locks  and 
swan  shoulders  of  some  stealer  of  hearts.  Good 
father,  is  she  not  lovely  to  look  at? 

MALACHI.  She  is  young  and  very  fair.  May 
you  ever  be  as  fair  at  heart,  my  child. 

ABIGAIL.  But,  of  course,  I  cannot  buy  them. 
(She  starts  to  take  them  off ;  then  hesitates.)  Still, — 
How  much  are  they? 

HAWKER.  But  a  pittance,  my  darling;  nothing 
at  all.  I'll  give  them  to  you  for  a  smile, — and  two 
shekels. 

ABIGAIL  (ruefully).  No,  I  can't  afford  it.  How 
ever,  I'll  give  you  one  shekel.  Is  it  a  bargain? 

HAWKER  (fawns).  Oh  my  mistress,  you  are 
very  good;  you  have  a  kind  mistress,  and  I'm  a  beg 
gar,  I  have  nothing!  I  am  ruined  at  the  price.  But 
you  are  so  pretty  in  them,  you  must  have  them.  Two 
shekels?  No?  No?  Give  me  just  two  shekels, 


ACT  I  23 

wanting  one  denar,  and  you  can  have  them;  but  I 
shall  be  beggared! 

ABIGAIL.     No,  too  much. 

She  begins  to  take  the  things  off  again. 

HAWKER.  No,  no,  don't  take  them  off!  Think 
how  pretty  you  look  in  them,  no  man  can  resist  you. 
No?  You  wont  give  me  two  shekels  wanting  one 
denar?  Only  seven  denars?  No? 

She  takes  out  her  purse  from  her  bosom  and  opens 
it. 

ABIGAIL.     Make  it  five  denars  and  I'll — 

HAWKER.  O  father  Abraham,  I  am  ruined,  I 
am  ruined!  No,  I  can't  do  that!  But  they  were 
made  for  you,  my  almond  blossom.  Give  me  six 
denars,  ah  me!  and  they  are  yours;  but  you'll  rob 
me! 

ABIGAIL  (laughs  and  pays  him).  Good,  though 
you're  robbing  me  at  that.  Here's  your  smile.  (She 
drops  him  a  mock  curtsy  and  smiles.)  I  must  to 
mistress  now. 

She  takes  up  the  tulips  she  had  left  on  the  table 
and  steps  down  into  the  garden,  while  he  packs  up 
and  chatters  gaily. 

HAWKER.  And  tell  her  I  have  some  fine  silks 
I'll  bring  tomorrow.  My  pretty,  if  you  go  to  town 
in  that  shawl,  you'll  have  more  men  about  you  than 
even  the  strange  prophet  in  town  today. 

ABIGAIL.     As  if  I  have  to  go  after  them! 

As  she  is  crossing  the  garden  toward  the  syca 
mores,  very  distant  shouts  steal  faintly  into  the  gar 
den,  yet  not  so  faint  but  they  check  her  abruptly. 


24  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

ABIGAIL.     What  is  that? 

HAWKER.  That's  the  prophet;  Paneas  town's 
gone  mad  over  him. 

MALACHI.     What  prophet?  who  is  he? 

He  has  finished  weeding  and  stands  up,  dropping 
the  folds  of  his  kethoneth  the  while  and  slipping 
the  garden  implements,  knife  and  trowel,  into  his 
girdle. 

HAWKER.  You  haven't  heard?  The  mad  Gali 
lean,  teaching  all  sorts  of  nonsense.  (The  shouts 
are  repeated.)  Hear  them! 

MALACHI.     What  about? 

Abigail  goes  to  the  opening  in  the  hedge  and  looks 
off  down  the  road  to  the  right.  By  this  time  the 
Hawker  has  tied  up  his  pack  and  sits  down  for  a  bit 
of  gossip,  the  gardener  joining  him  in  the  pavilion. 

HAWKER.  Oh,  about  some  country  or  other, 
where  everybody  loves  everybody,  friends  and  ene 
mies  alike,  ho,  ho!  The  only  kind  of  enemy  I  love 
is  a  pretty  one,  even  if  she  robs  me. 

He  wafts  a  kiss  toward  Abigail,  who  tosses  her 
head  and  laughs  merrily. 

MALACHI.  A  Galilean?  Does  he  say  what 
country? 

HAWKER.  Oh,  I  don't  know.  He  says  his  father 
is  king  there,  and  is  trying  to  get  Israel  to  ac 
cept  his  father's  rule.  Why,  his  father  was  a  car 
penter,  they  say,  and  is  dead  at  that!  He  forgets 
Rome,  too,  like  enough.  Much  like  a  king's  son  he 
is!  Just  a  begging  prophet,  a  little  mad,  with  a 
pack  of  women  and  fishermen  in  tow. 


ACT  I  25 

The  distant  shouts  are  again  heard.  They  listen 
until  the  shouts  die  away,  when  Malachi  resumes 
the  discussion. 

MALACHI.   People  don't  follow  beggars  that  way. 

HAWKER.  Perhaps  not.  They  do  say  he's  a  sort 
of  sorcerer,  makes  sick  folk  well  by  looking  at  'em. 
Well,  I  never  saw  it  happen. 

He  rises,  gathers  up  the  loose  folds  of  his  sarba- 
lin,  tucks  them  securely  in  his  sash,  shoulders  the 
pack  with  a  grunt,  descends  into  the  garden,  slipping 
his  feet  into  his  sandals,  and  walks  toward  the  hedge 
opening,  accompanied  by  Malachi. 

ABIGAIL.  Why,  I've  heard  of  him!  He's  a 
teacher  or  rabbi.  One  of  his  disciples  is  the  prince — 

She  checks  herself  quickly. 

HAWKER.  What's  that,  my  pretty  robber,  about 
a  prince?  Princes  don't  follow  beggars. 

ABIGAIL.     Oh  nothing;  but  I  must  tell  mistress! 

She  goes  out  in  considerable  excitement  under 
the  sycamores. 

HAWKER.  What  did  she  mean?  Does  she  know 
this  prophet? 

MALACHI.  Just  servant's  talk,  probably.  But 
his  name? 

HAWKER.  Calls  himself  the  Son  of  Adam ;  why, 
nobody  knows.  They  say  his  real  name  is  Joshua 
or  Jeshua.  I  hear  whispers  in  Galilee  of  a  revolt 
against  Rome,  and  people  do  say  maybe  he'll  start 
it.  Well,  who  knows?  I'm  just  a  poor  trader  and 
sell  to  who  buys.  Better  come  to  the  village  today 
and  see  the  'Master',  as  they  call  him.  Peace  to 


26  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

you,  good  father. 

MALACHI.     Peace  to  you,  brother. 

The  Hawker  goes  out  through  the  hedge  opening 
and  along  the  road  to  the  left.  At  the  same  time 
Malachi  reenters  the  lodge,  apparently  drops  his 
garden  implements  on  the  floor,  since  a  distinct  clat 
ter  is  heard,  and  immediately  returns  with  more 
fruit.  The  shouts  are  heard  again,  this  time  louder 
but  still  indistinct.  He  enters  the  pavilion,  sets 
the  fruit  in  the  basket  and  engages  in  wrinsing  the 
cup  at  the  spring.  While  he  is  so  engaged,  he  mut 
ters  once  or  twice  and  then  exclaims. 

MALACHI.  How  long,  O  Lord?  How  long? 
Wilt  thou  be  angry  with  thy  people  forever? 

Hereupon  Ruth  bath-Abihu  enters  hastily  under 
the  sycamores.  Her  dress,  carriage,  features  and 
manner  prove  her  of  Israel's  aristocracy.  She  pos 
sesses  Judean  culture  and  is  evidently  not  unac 
quainted  with  the  arts  and  graces  which  Israel's  con 
queror  has  begun  to  introduce  from  Greece  and 
Rome.  Haughty  on  occasion,  she  is  frank  and  lik 
able,  withal  a  pure  type  of  the  fairer  olive  beauty 
of  cultured  Judea,  without  doubt  a  thorough  woman 
of  the  world,  but  young  enough  to  be  still  suscep 
tible  to  the  influence  of  romantic  passion.  Passion 
ate  unquestionably  in  figure  and  face,  therefore  su 
perficially  hard;  but  if  the  lines  of  the  mouth  are  to 
be  trusted,  in  the  last  analysis  weak;  yet  one  for 
whose  favor  men  would  fight,  if  only  to  sacrifice 
her  to  their  pleasure  or  ambition.  For  the  rest,  she 
is  old  enough  to  be  aware  of  life's  disillusionment, 
young  enough  not  to  believe  it  inevitable. 

Her  kethoneth,  which  fits  her  figure  perhaps  a 


ACT  I  27 

trifle  more  snugly  than  is  usual  with  the  women  of 
Israel,  is  of  a  rare  rose-pink  silk,  edged  with  an  ex 
quisite  embroidery  in  pale  blue-and-gold  thread,  and 
gathered  at  the  waist  by  a  broad  gold  belt  or  girdle, 
set  with  clustered  rubies.  The  open  bosom  of  the 
kethoneth  reveals  a  low,  close-fitting  vest  of  rich 
gold  embroidery  over  rose.  The  bare  white  throat 
and  bosom,  however,  are  partly  concealed  by  a  light 
pink  silk  scarf,  loosely  held  in  place  by  a  ruby -set 
gold  brooch.  A  gold  band  is  visible  just  above  the 
elbow  of  her  right  arm,  a  gold  bracelet  shoivs  on  her 
left  wrist,  dainty  gold  earrings  depend  from  her 
ears,  and  a  small  gold  plate  with  a  single  large  ruby 
is  fastened  in  her  hair  above  the  forehead.  As  she 
moves,  dainty  pink  gold-embroidered  sandals  peep 
out  from  under  her  kethoneth,  and  it  is  evident  that 
she  has  left  the  house  in  a  hurry,  since  she  does  not 
wear  the  meil,  a  loose  flowing  robe  indicative  of 
gentle  origin.  Still  one  sees  that  she  had  time 
enough  to  snatch  up  an  exquisite  pink-and-white 
cashmere  shawl  and  drape  it  gracefully  over  her  left 
arm  and  head,  the  short  loose  end  being  held  to  her 
bosom  in  her  right  hand. 

RUTH.     Malachi ! 

MALACHI.     Here  I  am,  mistress. 

He  descends  to  the  garden  and  approaches  her 
respectfully. 

RUTH.  There  is  a  crowd  of  beggars  shouting 
down  the  road,  Malachi,  will  pass  the  house  present 
ly.  Go,  watch  the  hedges;  see  they  do  not  break 
through.  I  have  no  alms  for  them,  and  I  wish  to 
be  undisturbed.  I  shall  be  here  alone. 

MALACHI.     Very   well,    mistress;   you   shall    be 


28  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

undisturbed. 

He  goes  out  under  the  sycamores.  As  she  is  cross 
ing  the  garden  toward  the  pavilion,  the  distant 
shouts  break  out  louder  as  if  nearer.  She  comes  to 
an  instant  stop,  her  features  harden  with  a  look  of 
hatred,  her  fists  are  clenched  instinctively,  and  she 
trembles  with  suppressed  emotion. 

RUTH.     Jeshua  goes  by,  and  he  does  not  know! 

She  stamps  her  foot  in  vexation;  but  as  she  be 
comes  aware  of  voices,  she  hastily  composes  herself, 
enters  the  pavilion  and  sits  on  the  bench  the  other 
side  of  the  spring. 

VOICE  (off  stage).     Your  mistress  is  yonder? 

MALACHI  (off  stage).  Your  mercy,  sir;  but 
mistress  will  see  no  one  today. 

VOICE   (off  stage).    No  matter;    she  expects  me. 

MALACHI  (off  stage).  But,  sir;  you — I — eh — 
eh — 

His  voice  trails  away,  as  Judas  bar-Symeon,  of 
Kerioth-Judah,  enters  quickly  under  the  sycamores. 
He  must  be  twenty-five  or  twenty-eight  years  of 
age,  hardly  more,  tall,  well  built,  commanding  in 
appearance,  full  bearded,  his  beard  and  hair  striking 
ly  red,  a  handsome  man.  There  is  an  honesty  and 
straightforwardness  about  his  speech  and  bearing 
that  convince  one  of  his  comrnonsense,  yet  a  fugitive 
something  that  suggests  the  idealist  and  revolution 
ary,  and  it  takes  little  insight  to  see  a  possible  con 
flict  between  the  two,  the  practical  man  and  the 
idealist,  in  which  the  former  may  be  worsted.  One 
sees  at  once  by  a  glance  at  his  apparel  that  he  belongs 
to  the  nobility  of  Judea.  His  milk-over-blue  free- 


ACT  I  29 

flowing  silk  kethoneth  is  gathered  about  his  waist  by 
a  blue-and-gold  sash,  with  highly  embroidered  ends 
showing  over  his  right  hip  as  he  walks.  Over  this 
kethoneth  he  wears  the  open  full  meil,  or  robe  of 
rank,  in  color  a  rich  purple,  with  light  purple  lining 
and  a  narrow  facing  at  neck  and  down  the  front  of 
blue-and-gold  thread  over  white.  On  his  feet  are 
the  usual  leather  sandals  and  on  his  head  a  close-fit 
ting  turban  of  white,  with  loose  gold-embroidered 
ends  hanging  behind  to  his  shoulders.  At  the  pres 
ent  moment  he  is  pleasurably  excited  by  anticipa 
tion.  He  looks  about  eagerly  and  as  he  spies  Ruth 
in  the  pavilion,  he  crosses  over  toward  her  quickly. 

JUDAS.     Ruth!     Found  at  last! 

Malachi  has  followed  him  in  and  now  looks  anx 
iously  at  his  mistress.  But  as  soon  as  he  learns  from 
her  reception  of  him  that  Judas  was  expected,  he 
withdraws  quietly.  In  the  meantime  Ruth  has 
arisen  and  taken  a  step  forward. 

RUTH.     You  here  so  soon,  Judas? 

He  runs  up  the  pavilion  steps  and  attempts  to 
embrace  her. 

JUDAS.     My  darling! 

RUTH  (resisting).    No,  no,  Judas! 

He  gathers  her  happily  in  his  arms  and  kisses  her 
several  times  between  words. 

JUDAS.  Dearest!  How  happy — again — at  last! 
— after  eight  months — away — from  you! 

RUTH  (releases  herself).  Enough,  Judas.  So 
Abigail  found  you? 

JUDAS.  At  your  very  door,  where  else?  But 
are  you  not  glad  to  see  me? 


30  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

RUTH.  Oh,  I  suppose  so.  (She  recovers  herself 
quickly.)  You  came  so  suddenly,  I  can  not  yet 
realize  it's  you!  But,  come,  sit  and  tell  me  the 
news. 

She  smiles  at  him  and  sits  on  the  bench  beyond 
the  spring.  He  comes  as  far  as  the  table  and  stands 
facing  her. 

JUDAS.  What  is  the  matter,  dear?  You  are 
changed. 

RUTH.  Eight  months  do  change  one.  Oh,  what 
have  I  said?  Don't  look  at  me  so!  Come,  sit  by 
me.  Have  I  not  come  from  Jerusalem  just  to  see 
you  here,  goose? 

She  pulls  him  to  a  seat  beside  her  and  pats  his 
hand  playfully. 

JUDAS.     Then  you  have  not  changed? 

RUTH  (looks  away).  Why  should  I?  Don't 
be  foolish;  come,  tell  me  about  him.  Has  he  really 
decided  on  action? 

JUDAS.     Ruth,  look  at  me! 

She  turns  her  face  slowly  to  him  and  laughs  ner 
vously. 

RUTH.  You  are  as  grave  as  a  rabbi ;  what  is  the 
matter? 

He  looks  at  her  silently  for  a  few  moments  and 
she  drops  her  eyes. 

JUDAS.  Something  has  happened ;  you  are  not 
the  same. 

RUTH.  Nonsense!  I'm  here  at  your  bidding, 
when  I  might  be  having  (looking  up  at  him  with  a 
roguish  smile) a.  much  nicer  time  in  Jerusalem,  silly. 


ACT  I  31 

Isn't  that  enough? 

JUDAS  (relaxes).  Forgive  me,  dear;  you  are 
right.  Am  I  forgiven? 

RUTH  (impulsively  kisses  him).  You  are  this 
time;  but  mind  you,  I  am  not  really  yours  until — 

JUDAS.  I  know,  darling.  I  would —  But  my 
news  first. 

RUTH.  Yes;  is  he  still  set  on  his  impossible 
dreams  ? 

JUDAS.     That;  yet  perhaps  action,  too. 

RUTH.     Ah ! 

JUDAS.  He  has  called  a  meeting  of  the  Twelve 
for  this  afternoon.  It  seems  he  intends  to  tell  us  of 
some  definite  step  he  has  in  view;  what,  I  can  only 
surmise. 

RUTH.  Shall  you  not  miss  it?  Better  come 
back  to  me  later  with  an  account  of  it. 

JUDAS  (bitterly).  What  does  it  matter?  I  am 
not  one  of  his  intimates.  Usually  any  matter  of 
importance  goes  first  to  Symeon,  Jacob  and  Jochanan. 
So  it  makes  little  difference  if  I  am  late. 

RUTH.  Yet  you  ought  to  be  there  to  know 
everything. 

JUDAS.  Time  enough  for  that,  though;  he  must 
dismiss  the  crowd  first.  Moreover,  we  are  to  meet 
him  somewhere  along  this  road,  it  seems. 

RUTH.     So?    Where? 

JUDAS.  Some  garden  hereabouts.  The  crowd 
will  know.  But, — Ruth,  I  am  done  with  him. 

RUTH  (laughs).    You're  convinced  then? 

JUDAS.     Thoroughly.     When   the   Baptist  was 


32  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

imprisoned,  all  Galilee  looked  to  Jeshua  to  rescue 
him.  Instead,  he  talked  about  loving  enemies  and 
turning  the  other  cheek,  idle  fancies!  Even  the 
Baptist  from  prison  charged  him  with  failure  to 
take  a  man's  part. 

RUTH.     What  then? 

JUDAS.  Just  nothing,  till  Herod  despatched  the 
Baptist  and  began  to  suspect  Jeshua  of  being  his  suc 
cessor.  We  urged  him  to  organize  his  Galilean 
following  and  do  something.  But  he  refused,  said 
his  time  had  not  come,  and  left  Galilee  in  a  hurry 
for  the  mountains.  A  majority  of  his  following  left 
him  angrily,  although  a  few  of  us  went  with  him. 
Why?  I  cannot  explain  it.  His  flight  was  sheer 
cowardice,  and  yet — 

RUTH.     Yes? 

JUDAS.  You  know  he  never  dresses  as  a  prince 
of  the  house  of  Judah  (indicating  his  dress  with  a 
sweep  of  both  hands),  just  because  he  insists  we 
are  all  brothers  of  his.  And  after  all,  there  is 
something  beautiful  and  alluring  in  his  idea,  his 
life  of  the  kingdom,  fanciful  as  it  is.  I  sometimes 
wonder — 

RUTH.  Not  you,  Judas!  You'r  not  weaken 
ing? 

JUDAS.  No  fear.  Yet,  if  Israel  could  be  free 
under  our  own  king  and  then  did  live  his  way,  per 
haps —  But  why  speak  of  it?  Some  such  fancy  may 
have  held  us  to  him  during  the  winter's  wandering 
in  these  mountains.  Why  I  did  not  rally  his  dis 
gruntled  Galileans  for  a  revolt  instead  of  following 
him,  I  do  not  understand.  However,  now  he  seems 


ACT  I  33 

set  on  returning  to  Galilee  or  even  Judea — 

RUTH.  And  that  means  death  for  teaching 
against  the  Law  and  the  Tradition. 

JUDAS.  Unless  he  raises  the  standard  of  revolt 
against  Rome.  That  I  now  know  he  will  never 
do.  So  I  must  break  with  him  for  Israel's  sake. 

RUTH.  Not  yet;  stay  with  him  until  he  goes 
south.  The  people  seem  to  be  coming  back  to 
him. 

JUDAS.  It  is  strange.  I  called  it  cowardly,  his 
flight  last  fall;  yet  more  have  come  to  him  from 
Galilee  than  left  him  there.  He  draws  them. 

RUTH.  Only  because  they  still  think  he  will 
head  a  revolt,  that's  all.  You  could  do  the  same. 
You,  too,  are  of  David's  line,  more  direct  than  his. 

JUDAS.  Granted.  I  wonder,  though,  if  he  has 
not  more  of  the  kingly  to  him  than  I.  He  is  so  sure 
of  himself,  the  people  come  to  him  almost  instinc 
tively.  And  he  holds  them. 

RUTH.     You  can  do  the  same. 

JUDAS.  Perhaps.  At  any  rate,  he  is  heading 
south,  apparently.  If  his  following  continues  to 
grow,  he  will  reach  Jerusalem  with  a  large  army  by 
Passover. 

RUTH.     Is  that  his  intention? 

JUDAS.  I  think  not;  but  I  shall  know  shortly. 
(He  rises  to  go  into  the  garden.)  I  must  find  him. 
I  shall  be  back  before  sunset. 

RUTH  (rises  and  detains  him).  But  you  do  not 
expect  him  to  announce  himself  king?  You  know 
he  cannot  be  king. 


34  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

JUDAS.  Not  if  he  keeps  to  his  dreams.  As 
though  Israel  could  be  restored  without  recourse  to 
arms!  No,  Israel's  coming  kingdom  is  the  kingdom 
of  the  sword.  (He  steps  into  the  garden  and  she 
follows,  both  walking  slowly  toward  the  sycamores.) 
I  could  welcome  even  him  as  king — 

RUTH  (starts).    Judas! 

JUDAS.  — if  he'd  take  the  sword.  What  if  he 
be  right  in  condemning  us  for  making  much  of  Law 
and  Tradition?  That  does  not  free  Israel  from 
Rome;  only  the  sword  can  do  that.  (The  distant 
shouts  are  heard  again  faintly,  and  he  turns  to  go 
out.)  He  dismisses  them;  I  must  go. 

RUTH.  Those  shouts  will  be  yours  some  day, 
my  king  to  be!  Go  now,  and  hear  him  announce 
himself  your  king — of  love!  Bah!  Do  nothing, 
though,  till  you  see  me.  I  shall  look  for  you  later. 

He  turns  as  if  to  kiss  her;  but  she  skillfully  avoids 
him,  and  in  his  hurry  he  cannot  follow  her,  but 
starts  to  go  out  under  the  sycamores. 

JUDAS.     Till  sunset,  then. 

RUTH.     Till  then. 

He  goes  out.  Her  manner  changes.  Is  there  in 
it  a  suggestion  of  hopeless  weariness?  or  would  one 
say,  self -disgust?  At  any  rate  she  lingers  aimlessly 
under  the  sycamores  and  picks  a  lily  of  the  valley 
from  the  flower-bed  near  the  lodge.  A  pause.  Then 
murmuring  voices  and  footsteps  on  the  roadway 
break  on  the  silence  with  instant  effect  on  her  at 
titude;  for  she  realizes  that  it  must  be  Jeshua  about 
to  pass  by.  Where  the  moment  before  she  had  seem- 
ed  to  find  the  taste  of  life  bitter,  now  a  new  flood  of 


ACT  I  35 

life  breaks  over  her.  The  lily  of  the  valley,  forgot 
ten  in  her  hand,  drops  neglected  to  the  grass.  She 
quickly  steps  toward  the  hedge  opening,  presses  her 
hands  to  her  breast  and  waits  eagerly,  as  though 
some  deep-buried  emotion  of  the  past,  though  not 
wholly  of  the  past,  had  flooded  to  life  at  the  realiza 
tion  of  his  approach.  Then  a  revulsion  of  feeling,  in 
which  hate  and  pride  are  evidently  mingled,  sweeps 
over  her;  she  stamps  her  foot,  turns  sharply  and  goes 
out  under  the  sycamores. 

VOICE  (off  stage).  The  garden  must  be  here, 
somewhere;  there's  Pan's  temple  just  opposite. 

ANOTHER  VOICE  (off  stage).  Yes,  and  there's 
an  opening  in  the  hedge,  and  acacias,  too. 

One  is  aware  of  several  persons  moving  along  the 
roadway  beyond  the  sycamores  and  hedge  during 
the  preceding  conversation.  Now  even  before  the 
second  speaker  has  quite  finished  speaking,  he  ap 
pears  at  the  opening  and  proves  to  be  Jochanan  bar- 
Zebediah,  immediately  followed  by  Symeon  bar- 
Jonah  and  Jacob  bar-Zebediah,  then  by  Jeshua  bar- 
Joseph  and  one  or  two  other  Disciples  of  his. 

Jochanan  has  scarcely  attained  manhood  yet, 
slight,  handsome,  etherial,  in  every  look  at  his  Mas 
ter  showing  intense  admiration  and  devotion,  even 
when  disagreeing  with  him,  somewhat  inclined  to 
be  boyish  in  manner. 

Symeon  is  a  little,  wiry,  scraggy-bearded,  sharp- 
faced  man  of  thirty-five  or  so,  distinctly  showing 
his  fisherman  origin  in  gait,  stoop  and  knotted  fin 
gers.  Not  prepossessing  at  first  glance,  a  second 
glance  arrests  the  attention,  as  if  hidden  fires  burn 
within. 


36  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

Jacob  is  a  pudgy  stout  man  of  perhaps  forty,  rath 
er  pompous,  prosaic  and  inclined  to  think  himself 
always  in  the  right,  an  ass  of  that  breed  that  is 
right  when  right,  but  when  wrong,  hopeless.  Since 
such  qualities  make  an  admirable  bishop,  one  sur 
mises  that  the  future  has  a  bishopric  in  store  for 
him. 

The  eight  other  Disciples,  who  appear  here  and 
a  little  later,  are  varying  types  of  the  Galilean 
fisherman,  peasant  and  townsman.  With  the  ex 
ception  of  Jochanan,  Jacob  and  Levi,  who  show 
their  acquaintance  with  somewhat  easier  circum 
stances  than  the  rest  in  the  better  quality  of  their 
dress  and  by  wearing  turbans  and  simlahs,  the  Dis 
ciples  are  clothed  in  the  usual  kethoneth,  sandals 
and  napkin  folded  over  the  head  and  held  in  place 
by  a  coarse  woolen  cord,  the  loose  ends  of  the  nap 
kin  falling  over  the  shoulders  behind.  These  seven 
also  wear  crude  sheepskin  jackets  instead  of  the  sim- 
lah,  an  indication  that  the  evenings  in  the  moun 
tains  are  still  frosty. 

Jeshua,  a  man  of  thirty  or  thereabout,  while  sug 
gesting  a  peasant  origin,  is  perceptibly  superior  to 
his  companions  in  culture,  reserve  and  forcefulness, 
such  a  one,  in  fact,  as  ancient  Israel's  peasant  prince 
may  have  been.  His  air  of  quiet  repose  is  the  calm 
of  a  vigorous  and  masterful  will,  perfectly  sure  of 
itself  and  therefore  neither  hurrying  nor  lagging  in 
effecting  its  ends.  But  what  is  still  more  striking 
is  the  irresistible  impression  that  this  will  is  con 
trolled  by  a  deep  sorrow  for  and  understanding  of 
human  weaknesses  and  aspirations,  and  one  feels  the 
searching  beauty  of  his  look,  forgetting  his  spare 


ACT  I  37 

beard  and  rather  ordinary  features.  This  ordinariness 
of  features  is  redeemed  by  the  dark  flowing  locks, 
rippling  to  his  shoulders,  in  which  one  may  occasion 
ally  see  the  glint  of  fire.  Perhaps  a  trifle  feminine, 
with  the  eyes  of  a  dreamer,  one  gains  an  increasing 
impression  of  him  as  above  all  a  master  of  men.  His 
dress,  a  white  wool  kethoneth  faintly  lined  in  blue, 
a  sash  of  the  same,  a  light  gray  striped  simlah,  leath 
er  sandals  and  a  white  peasant  napkin  on  his  head, 
speaks  of  a  studied  simplicity,  as  though  he  were  fit 
ted  for  gentle  apparel,  but  refused  to  avail  himself 
of  the  right. 

JOCHANAN  (looks  in).  Master,  this  must  be 
the  garden  the  fishwoman  named,  thorn  hedge  and 
pavilion  over  spring.  Do  we  enter  here? 

JESHUA.     Inquire  at  the  lodge. 

He  stops  in  the  roadway  while  the  others  enter 
the  garden,  Jochanan  going  to  the  lodge  door  and 
knocking.  At  the  same  time  Judas  and  one  or  two 
other  Disciples  enter  along  the  roadway  from  the 
right.  To  these  last  he  speaks. 

JESHUA.     Are  the  multitude  safely  past? 

JUDAS.  Philip  and  Levi  have  led  them  to  the 
bridge  road  and  will  be  with  us  in  a  moment. 

JESHUA.     Good.    Let  us  enter. 

{The  other  Disciples  enter  the  garden;  but  Judas 
hesitates. 

JUDAS.     Here,  Master? 

JESHUA  (motions  him  in).     Here. 

Judas  looks  hastily  about,  seems  reassured,  enters 
the  garden  and  walks  toward  the  pavilion,  but  ap 
pears  ill  at  ease.  At  the  same  time  Jeshua  looks  off 


38  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

down  the  roadway  to  the  right,  beckons  as  if  to  some 
persons  at  a  distance,  and  enters  the  garden  just  as 
Malachi  enters  under  the  sycamores. 

JESHUA.  Peace  be  upon  this  house!  This  is  the 
Garden  of  the  Strangers? 

Malachi  looks  at  him  in  growing  wonder  and  sur 
prised  recognition. 

MALACHI.  The  Master!  In  my  mistress' 
name,  welcome  to  the  Garden,  good  sir! 

JESHUA.  Call  me  not  good.  There  is  only  One 
good;  all  are  his  children.  By  your  mistress'  leave, 
I  would  confer  with  these  alone.  My  thanks  to  her 
and  peace.  Will  you? 

MALACHI.     Your  servant. 

He  bows  respectfully  and  goes  out  under  the  syca 
mores.  In  the  meantime  the  remaining  Disciples  of 
the  Twelve  have  entered  along  the  road  from  the 
right,  the  last  of  whom  has  just  come  to  the  opening 
and  speaks,  pointing  the  while  down  the  road. 

PHILIP.  Master,  they  are  on  the  road  to  the 
bridge  below.  They  ask  your  speedy  return. 

JESHUA.  In  good  time,  Philip.  Are  we  all  pres 
ent? 

JACOB.     We  are,  Master. 

JESHUA.     It  is  well. 

He  stands  in  front  of  the  acacia  at  the  right  of  the 
opening,  where  he  both  commands  a  view  of  the  gar 
den  and  pavilion  and  by  an  easy  turn  may  look  out 
upon  the  mountain  and  cliff  at  the  back.  The 
Twelve  arrange  themselves  conveniently  about  him 
in  the  foreground  and  by  the  pavilion.  Jochanan 


ACT  I  39 

sits  on  the  lodge  step.  Jacob  stands  near  and  to  the 
left  of  his  Master.  Judas  enters  the  pavilion,  sits  on 
the  bench  back  of  the  spring  and  helps  himself  to  the 
fruit.  Two  or  three  others  follow  him  in  and  stand 
near  the  table  eating.  One  drinks.  Symeon  goes  to 
the  bench  under  the  cypress  and  sits  with  another 
Disciple.  The  rest  throw  themselves  comfortably 
on  the  ground  or  sit  on  the  pavilion  steps.  During 
the  ensuing  the  clouds  gradually  break  over  the 
mountain  and  an  occasional  glint  of  sunshine 
touches  the  snow-cap  or  even  the  cliff.  While  the 
Disciples  are  thus  disposing  themselves,  they  con 
verse  casually. 

A  DISCIPLE.  So  we  are  out  of  the  mountains  at 
last! 

SYMEON.    Yes;  no  more  snow-storms  and  colds. 

SECOND  DISCIPLE.  Figs,  and  dates,  too!  What 
luck! 

LEVI.    Ah,  there's  the  sun. 

JOCHANAN.     But  a  thunderstorm  is  brewing. 

LEVI.     No,  it  is  clearing. 

THIRD  DISCIPLE.  Well,  do  we  sleep  in  town  to 
night  ? 

FIRST  DISCIPLE.  No,  in  yonder  cave  by  the 
river. 

THIRD  DISCIPLE.    We  might  as  well  sit. 

JACOB.     The  Master  speaks. 

JESHUA.  My  friends,  you  have  suffered  much 
for  my  sake  since  you  first  came  to  me  in  Galilee. 
At  the  first  without  question  you  accepted  me  as 
your  master  when  the  people  thronged  me.  Later, 


40  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

when  I  rebuked  their  mistaken  zeal,  many  fell  away 
and  went  home ;  but  you  stood  fast  and  followed  me 
to  these  mountains,  giving  up  home,  kindred  and 
goods  for  my  sake,  and  becoming  outcasts  of  Israel. 
Yet  in  all  these  months  did  you  lack  anything? 

LEVI.    Nothing,  Master. 

JESHUA.  And  yet,  Levi,  you  sold  everything 
and  gave  to  the  poor,  and  became  with  the  rest  of 
these  but  a  beggar  with  me.  Were  you  not  afraid 
of  starving  in  the  mountains? 

LEVI.    Then  we  were  all  afraid ;  but — 

JESHUA.  But  the  Father  who  clothes  the  field 
with  grass  and  cares  for  the  hungry  birds,  he  clothed 
and  fed  you  despite  your  lack  of  faith.  You  are  no 
longer  afraid? 

SYMEON.  Not  now!  We  will  go  with  you  any 
where  ! 

JESHUA.  So  confident,  Symeon?  Can  you  bear 
the  truth? 

SYMEON.     But  speak,  Master;  where? 

JESHUA.     To  Jerusalem? 

SEVERAL.     To  Jerusalem? 

JESHUA.     To  Jerusalem.     We  start  tomorrow. 

JUDAS.     Action  at  last! 

He  rises  and  goes  toward  the  front  of  the  pavil 
ion,  while  the  Disciples  murmur  among  themselves 
and  some  of  them  press  nearer  to  Jeshua. 

PHILIP.  Jerusalem?  That  means  through  Gal 
ilee. 

SYMEON.     Yes,  and  back  to  our  families. 

THOMAS.     But  secretly,  because  Herod  is  on  the 


ACT  I  41 

lookout  for  the  Master,  aye  and  us,  too. 

PHILIP.     It  is  a  risk. 

THOMAS.  Of  course,  Master,  you  will  be  pre 
pared  to  meet  the  rabbis'  and  priests'  opposition? 
You  know  their  threat  to  arrest  you  in  the  name  of 
the  Sanhedrin  for  teaching  disregard  of  the  Tradi 
tions.  Are  we  prepared  to  meet  them  without  arms? 
Master,  arm  us! 

SEVERAL.  Yes,  yes ;  arm  us ! 

THOMAS.  You  hear,  Master.  If  the  Baptist 
had  allowed  arms  to  his  disciples,  Herod  would  not 
have  arrested  or  executed  him.  Think  of  the  risk 
we  run! 

JESHUA.     So,  Thomas? 

JACOB.  Yes,  why  not  organize  an  army  of  your 
Galileans?  We  Twelve  can  officer  them  under  you. 
Many  others  will  join  your  standard  in  Galilee. 
We  can  go  secretly  to  Jerusalem  for  the  Passover, 
and  at  your  word  fall  on  Rome  and  free  Israel.  Shall 
we? 

JESHUA.     To  what  end?     Is  this  common  talk? 

JOCHANAN.  Master,  many  talk  this  way.  Only 
this  morning  I  surprised  a  group  grumbling  at  your 
apparent  indifference  to  Rome.  I  rebuked  them,  of 
course.  Nevertheless,  I  am  glad  you  intend  action 
now.  Otherwise —  May  I  speak? 

JESHUA.     What  is  it,  Jochanan? 

JOCHANAN.  I  fear  some  of  them,  perhaps  many, 
who  do  not  know  you  as  we  do,  will  fall  away  again 
unless  you —  You  remember  what  they  said  of  your 
refusal  to  help  the  Baptist? 


4*  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

JUDAS.  How  they  jibed  us:  "Ho,  ho!  your 
master  is  a  second  Ezekiel,  without  doubt ;  calls  him 
self  Son  of  Adam  and  talks  of  the  restoration,  and 
how  bravely  he  does — nothing!"  And,  Master,  you 
did  do  nothing. 

JESHUA.  Ah!  And  what  do  they  think  of  the 
Son  of  Adam  now? 

PHILIP.  Oh,  they  mostly  say  you  are  a  prophet, 
the  Baptist's  successor  in  some  sort.  Herod,  too, 
must  think  that,  if  what  I  heard  the  other  day 
from  a  traveler  is  to  be  believed. 

FIRST  DISCIPLE.     What  was  that,   Philip? 

PHILIP.  Some  ridiculous  story  that  Herod 
thinks  the  Master  is  the  Baptist  come  to  life. 

THIRD  DISCIPLE.  A  likely  story;  no  wonder 
Herod  is  afraid. 

LEVI.  Some,  I  hear,  think  you  are  Elijah,  be 
cause  you  announce  the  restoration. 

JACOB.  Or  the  prophet  Jeremiah,  the  keeper  of 
the  ark. 

JUDAS.  But  the  rabbis  say  you  are  Beelzebub, 
because  demoniacs  obey  you. 

JESHUA.  Let  be  what  others  say;  it  matters 
little.  You,  however,  my  disciples,  you  have  been 
with  me  many  months;  what  do  you  say? 

While  the  Disciples  ponder  the  question  and  seek 
to  sum  up  their  judgment  of  Jeshua,  the  sun  breaks 
through  the  clouds  and  floods  the  temple  and  cliff 
in  the  distance.  Quickly  the  light  spreads  across 
the  intervening  valley  and  begins  to  shine  in  the  gar 
den  through  the  trees.  The  light  casts  Jeshua  in 
bright  relief ',  as  he  quietly  watches  the  Twelve. 


ACT  I  43 

Judas  starts  and  gazes  at  him  fascinated.  The  oth 
ers  look  at  him  in  wondering  silence.  Then  Symeon 
starts  to  his  feet  in  sudden  astonishment. 

SYMEON.  Master,  you — ,  you — ,  you  are  the 
Messiah ! 

The  Twelve  lean  expectantly  toward  their  Mas 
ter  with  a  sharp  gasp  of  surprise.  A  moment  of 
tense  but  silent  excitement  ensues,  during  which  a 
look  of  terror  passes  over  Judas  standing  motionless 
and  apart.  Then  the  other  Eleven  spring  tumul- 
tuously  to  their  feet  and  shout. 

ELEVEN.  Messiah!  Hail  to  our  King!  The 
kingdom  of  our  God  and  of  his  Messiah  is  come! 
Hail,  Deliverer! 

They  kneel.   Jeshua  raises  his  hand  in  protest. 

JESHUA.     Enough!     Stand! 

The  gathering  clouds  begin  to  blot  out  the  sun 
light  over  the  mountain.  Judas  shakes  himself  as  if 
to  cast  off  the  spell  and  strives  to  look  unconcerned, 
while  Jeshua  takes  a  step  toward  Symeon.  The  rest 
unconsciously  fall  back  a  step. 

JESHUA.  Blessed  are  you,  Symeon  bar- Jonah; 
for  you  have  received  a  revelation  from  the  Father 
without  any  word  of  man.  You  shall  no  longer 
be  Symeon,  but  Kephas  the  Rock;  for  upon  you  I 
shall  erect  the  everlasting  kingdom  of  the  Father 
more  securely  than  yonder  temple  stands  upon  the 
crumbling  cliff.  Keep  this  revelation,  and  you  will 
triumph  over  death  and  hell,  my  Kephas. 

SYMEON  (greatly  moved).  Master,  I  cannot  speak. 
You  are  my  King!  I  am  yours  to  death! 


44  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

He  kneels.  Thereupon  the  others  except  Judas 
kneel. 

OTHER  DISCIPLES.  And  I!  And  I!  And  I! 
And  I! 

The  shadow  now  covers  the  mountain,  temple  and 
cliff  and  begins  to  sweep  across  the  valley  toward 
the  garden. 

JESHUA.  And  you,  Judas,  my  honest  friend? 
You  do  not  speak.  What  think  you  of  the  Son  of 
Adam?  Are  these  mistaken? 

JUDAS  (reluctantly,  but  doggedly).  Master,  what 
can  I  say?  The  people  follow  you,  now  more 
than  ever.  If  you  should  declare  yourself  their  king, 
doubtless  they  would  accept  you.  They  are  restive 
under  the  Roman  yoke.  These  declare  you  Mes 
siah.  Lift  the  sword  against  Rome  and  call  the  na 
tion  to  arms.  If  you  overthrow  her  rule,  will  you 
not  be  our  king?  Why  not  the  Messiah  then? 
What  more  can  I  say?  Wield  the  Messiah's  sword, 
and  you  shall  be  the  Messiah.  Otherwise — 

JESHUA.     Ah,  the  sword! 

The  shadow  spreads  over  the  garden  and  blots  out 
the  sun.  The  Eleven  surround  him. 

PHILIP.     Come,  Master;  away  to  the  multitude! 

JACOB.     You  are  David's  son! 

THOMAS.  Declare  yourself  to  them,  and  lead 
us  to  Jerusalem  and  the  kingdom! 

SYMEON.  On  to  Jerusalem!  On  to  victory! 
Hail  to  our  Deliverer! 

With  Symeon  in  the  lead  the  Eleven  start  a  rush 
out  of  the  garden  with  shouts.  Judas  alone  neither 


ACT  I  45 

moves  nor  speaks. 

ELEVEN.  The  Messiah  and  his  sword!  The 
Messiah  and  his  sword ! 

JESHUA  (checks  them).  Kephas!  Jochanan! 
Levi !  Stop ! 

They  hesitate,  stop,  and  turn  toward  him. 

SYMEON.     But,  Master — 

JESHUA.  Silence!  Do  you  not  yet  understand? 
Has  all  my  teaching  then  come  to  this?  Do  you 
not  know  me  yet? 

JOCHANAN.  Master,  now  have  our  eyes  been 
opened.  How  blind  we  were!  But  now  we  do 
know,  and  we  are  glad ;  for  Israel's  deliverance  is  at 
hand. 

JESHUA  (sorrowfully).  No,  you  have  not  yet 
understood.  This  is  not  my  hour.  For  the  present 
I  forbid  you  to  utter  a  word  of  this  beyond  our 
circle.  When  my  hour  comes, —  But  that  will  keep. 

THOMAS.  Is  it  possible  you  fear  the  people  will 
not  believe  you? 

JUDAS.  Rather,  you  are  discreet,  Master;  for 
how  will  you  prove  yourself  the  Messiah?  Israel 
awaits  his  Messiah  from  heaven,  with  the  angels  of 
God,  to  strike  down  our  enemies.  How  can  you  sat 
isfy  them? 

SYMEON.  Enough,  Judas.  Surely,  Master,  they 
will  believe  you.  Why  this  silence?  Breathe  the 
word  and  the  nation  will  rise  to  put  you  on  David's 
throne,  and  we  shall  come  into  our  own ! 

JESHUA.  Not  so,  Kephas;  this  is  not  the  Mes 
siah's  way.  You  think  Israel's  deliverance  must 


46  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

come  in  the  splendor  of  the  nation's  ancient  wealth 
and  prosperity.  Even  so  I  believed  until  the  day  at 
Jochanan's  baptism  the  Father  called  me  to  declare 
his  purpose,  and  showed  me  that  the  way  of  redemp 
tion  is  not  a  way  of  plenty,  but  of  suffering. 

JACOB.     Not  suffering,  surely? 

JESHUA.  Just  that.  Is  it  not  written,  'Man 
shall  not  live  by  bread  alone,  but  by  every  word  of 
God'  ?  I  know  your  thought.  Did  I  not  also  once 
expect  the  deliverance  to  come  by  the  way  of  the 
sword  and  universal  dominion  over  the  peoples  of 
the  earth?  Yet  the  Father  taught  me  to  look  for 
Israel's  redemption,  not  in  the  victory  of  the  sword, 
but  in  Israel's  loving  trust.  Is  it  not  written,  'Thou 
shalt  worship  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  him  only  shalt 
thou  serve'? 

THIRD  DISCIPLE.  Nevertheless,  the  first  Joshua 
used  the  sword. 

JESHUA.  True;  but  the  Father  chooses  to  es 
tablish  his  kingdom  now  in  another  way.  At  first 
I  thought  some  signal  act  of  his  deliverance,  as  sav 
ing  me  after  a  jump  from  the  pinnacle  of  the 
Temple,  would  convince  the  nation  that  his  king 
dom  was  at  hand.  But  he  schooled  me  to  trust  him 
to  reveal  the  kingdom  in  his  own  way.  Is  it  not 
written,  'Thou  shalt  not  put  the  Lord  thy  God  to 
the  test'?  Therefore  you  must  trust  him  to  reveal 
me  to  the  nation  in  his  own  way.  And  until  then 
you  may  not  speak. 

FOURTH  DISCIPLE.     Are  we  mistaken  in  him? 

FIRST  DISCIPLE.  Aye,  aye,  is  he  a  coward  and 
afraid?  Is  it  worth  following  him  further?  Or 
shall  we  leave  him? 


ACT  I  47 

THIRD  DISCIPLE.     Hush! 

JUDAS.  Well  have  you  answered,  Master.  No 
precipitate  declaration  should  be  made,  lest  the 
people  fall  away  from  you.  Symeon  is  mistaken; 
how  can  they  yet  know  you  to  be  the  Messiah? 
The  rabbis  affirm,  on  the  authority  of  scripture,  that 
Elijah  must  first  come.  Till  he  appears,  how  can 
they  believe  you  ? 

JESHUA.  So?  And  scripture  must  be  fulfilled. 
But  as  a  matter  of  fact  Elijah  has  already  come  and 
suffered  at  the  hands  of  men. 

SYMEON.     He  means  the  Baptist,  Judas. 

JESHUA.  Similarly  must  the  scripture  be  fulfill 
ed  that  foretells  the  suffering  and  death  of  the  Son 
of  Adam. 

SYMEON.  Suffering  and  death?  That  is  not  the 
Messiah's  way! 

JESHUA  (exalted).  'He  was  despised  and  re 
jected  of  men,  a  man  of  sorrows  and  acquainted 
with  grief,  and  we  did  esteem  him  stricken,  smitten 
of  God  and  afflicted.' 

SYMEON.     But  Isaiah  means  Israel. 

JESHUA.  Nevertheless,  the  Son  of  Adam  must 
suffer  many  things  and  be  rejected  of  men  and  pour 
out  his  soul  unto  death. 

SYMEON.  Never,  Master!  You  shall  not  talk 
of  death!  The  Messiah's  way  is  victory  and  he 
must  come  as  king! 

JESHUA.     Out  of  my  sight,  Satan! 

SYMEON  (falls  back  in  surprise).    Master? 

JESHUA.     Not    now    are    you   speaking   God's 


48  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

thoughts,  but  men's.  You  all  think  the  same?  Then 
you  do  not  know  me. 

They  look  at  him  in  doubting  silence.  He  turns 
as  if  to  go  out  at  the  opening  in  the  hedge,  when 
Jacob  detains  him. 

JACOB.  Master,  are  you  so  indifferent  to  the 
suffering  of  the  nation  and  our  shame?  Does  not 
God  hear  the  sighs  and  groans  of  his  people?  Will 
not  his  Messiah  deliver  them  from  oppression? 

JOCHANAN.  Think,  Master!  Let  us  declare 
you  Messiah  to  those  at  the  bridge  and  turn  south. 
Every  city  through  which  we  pass  and  all  the  coun 
tryside  will  pour  out  and  increase  your  following, 
as  each  little  stream  swells  the  Jordan,  until,  resist 
less,  like  that  river,  you  will  sweep  down  upon  the 
Roman  and  drive  him  from  Jerusalem. 

JESHUA  (shaking  off  detaining  hands).  And  end 
as  the  mighty  Jordan  ends, — in  a  dead  sea  of  fruit 
less  effort!  I  go  to  Jerusalem  with  such  as  choose 
to  go  my  way.  If  the  Father  wills  to  restore  the 
kingdom  at  this  time,  who  can  stay  him?  But  if  he 
choose  to  deliver  up  the  Son  of  Adam  for  the  sins 
of  the  people,  think  not  the  sword  can  thwart  his 
purpose.  It  may  mean  death  for  any  to  be  known 
as  mine  in  Jerusalem;  but  as  many  as  dare  face 
death,  follow  me! 

He  steps  into  the  roadway  and  the  Eleven  press 
after  him. 

ELEVEN.  We  follow!  We  follow!  Command 
us! 

JESHUA.  It  is  well.  Go  to  the  multitude  and 
await  me  at  the  bridge.  But  no  word  of  this  to  any. 


ACT  I  49 

The  Eleven  go  out  with  a  rush  along  the  road  to 
the  right,  while  Judas,  alone  following  slowly  and 
turning  at  the  opening,  finds  himself  confronting 
his  Master  still  standing  in  the  roadway. 

JUDAS.     Master,  do  you  tarry? 

JESHUA.     Nay,  I  go  to  the  bridge. 

Judas  turns  and  goes  out  in  seeming  perplexity 
along  the  road  after  the  rest.  Jeshua  steps  across 
the  roadway  beyond  the  opening  and  looks  off  into 
the  valley.  Immediately  faint  shouts  arise  in  the  far 
distance,  as  if  from  the  valley,  where  the  waiting 
crowd  must  have  just  caught  a  glimpse  of  him  on 
the  roadway.  He  stands  lost  in  meditation;  then 
exclaims. 

JESHUA.  I  am  glad,  Father,  that  you  have  hid 
den  these  things  from  the  wise  and  prudent,  and 
have  revealed  them  to  babes;  your  way  is  the  best. 

The  sky  darkens  with  the  approach  of  evening 
and  the  increase  of  clouds,  the  evidence  of  a  thun 
derstorm  brewing  over  the  mountain.  Very  distant 
thunder  rumbles.  As  the  thunder  dies  away,  Ruth 
enters  under  the  sycamores,  followed  by  Judas,  and 
begins  to  cross  the  garden. 

RUTH.     Come,  we  shall  be  undisturbed  here. 

Jeshua  turns  as  he  hears  her  voice,  steps  to  the 
opening  and  recognizes  her.  At  sight  of  him  she 
is  thrown  into  extreme  agitation. 

RUTH.     Jeshua!     I  did  not  know — 

JESHUA.  Your  pardon,  Ruth.  I  was  not  aware 
it  was  your  hospitality  my  disciples  and  I  had  en 
joyed  in  this  garden.  Yet  it  was  a  gracious  service 
you  have  unwittingly  rendered,  and  we  are  grateful. 


50  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

Ruth  has  quickly  regained  control  of  herself  and 
speaks  scornfully. 

RUTH.  I  ask  for  no  thanks  from  you ;  your  con 
venience  is  of  no  moment  to  me.  The  night  in  Naz 
areth  you  made  your  choice,  that  night  has  shut 
every  garden  of  mine  to  you.  I  am  mistress  here. 
Go! 

She  sweeps  across  to  the  pavilion.  He  watches 
her  in  silence  until  at  the  pavilion  she  turns  in 
pique  that  he  has  so  far  said  nothing  in  reply.  As 
soon  as  she  looks  at  him,  however,  he  speaks  to  her 
with  exquisite  sadness  as  if  more  for  her  than  for 
himself. 

JESHUA.     So  be  it;  I  have  chosen. 

Quietly  he  turns  to  go  out  by  the  road,  when  a 
look  of  pain  passes  over  her  face,  and  with  parted 
lips  she  takes  a  half  step  toward  him,  only  to  check 
herself  and  watch.  In  turning  he  discovers  Judas, 
who  has  pressed  back  among  the  trees  as  if  to  es 
cape  notice. 

JESHUA.     Judas? 

JUDAS.  Oh — I — eh — Master,  you  still  here? 
Do  you  wish —  Shall  I — eh —  Ruth,  I  must 
speak ! 

RUTH  (sharply).    No,  Judas! 

At  her  exclamation  Jeshua  looks  keenly  at  her, 
and  she  in  turn  begins  to  show  signs  of  returning 
agitation.  Then  he  looks  back  again  at  Judas.  // 
is  evident  that  the  relation  between  the  two  dawns 
on  him;  for  he  turns  to  go  out  at  the  opening  with 
one  last  word  of  warning  (or  is  it  appeal?)  to  his 
Disciple. 


ACT  I  51 

JESHUA.  You  know  where  to  find  me,  Judas. 
Remember  the  storm. 

He  goes  out  along  the  road  to  the  right. 

JUDAS  (gloomily).    So  he  knows. 

He  walks  to  the  opening  and  looks  off  toward 
the  mountain,  while  she  sits  on  the  pavilion  step. 

RUTH.     How  could  he? 

The  distant  thunder  rumbles  again. 

JUDAS.  A  storm  is  brewing  over  the  mountain; 
it  will  break  before  long.  Perhaps  it  is  just  as  well; 
it  were  best  oppose  him  in  the  open. 

RUTH.  To  think  he  was  here  a  moment  ago! 
Yet,  had  he  known  it  was  my  garden,  he  would  not 
have  come.  Once  it  was  otherwise.  But  that  is 
past.  Was  the  conference  here? 

Judas  begins  to  walk  about  restlessly  in  the  gar 
den. 

JUDAS.  Yes ;  and  he  announced  himself  the  Mes 
siah. 

RUTH  (startled).  The  Messiah?  Why,  what  do 
you  mean? 

JUDAS.  At  least  Symeon  gave  him  the  title,  and 
he  did  not  refuse  it.  The  others  accepted  it,  too. 

RUTH.  Jeshua  the  Messiah?  A  mere  man  the 
redeemer  of  Israel?  It  cannot  be! 

JUDAS.  I  know  not.  The  Messiah  must  fight; 
but  he  goes  to  Jerusalem  and  will  accept  death  with 
out  resistance.  How  can  the  Messiah  die?  And 
yet— 

RUTH.     No,  no,  Judas! 

JUDAS.     He  stood  there  (pointing),  and  as  he 


52  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

stood,  he  looked  more  than  man.     A  light  shone 
about  him  and  transfigured  him. 

Ruth  chokes,  gasps,  puts  both  hands  to  her  throat, 
and  stares  terrifiedly  at  the  spot  Judas  has  pointed 
to. 

RUTH.  A  light — transfigured — him!  Wh — 
what  nonsense  is  this? 

JUDAS.     Oh,  it  was  only  the  sun — 

RUTH.  Yes,  the  sun;  it  must  have  been  the  sun, 
the  sun  was  shining  a  while  ago,  it  was  the  sun, 
Judas? 

JUDAS.  Of  course.  Yet,  somehow,  he  was 
different  and  kingly,  too. 

Ruth  suddenly  throws  off  the  spell,  rises  and 
walks  toward  the  cypress. 

RUTH.  But  you  are  kingly.  And  when  you  de 
clare  yourself  king —  Not  now,  of  course;  I  know 
best ;  you  must  wait.  But  when  the  times  comes,  the 
people  will  recognize  you  as  you  are,  David's  son. 

JUDAS.  Then  I  shall  draw  the  sword  and  free 
Israel. 

RUTH.     You  care  so  much  for  Israel,  then  ? 
JUDAS.     You  think  the  same. 

She  sits  on  the  bench  under  the  cypress,  for  a 
moment  lost  in  a  muse. 

RUTH.  Perhaps.  A  light — shone  about  him!  It 
cannot  be ! —  But  now  for  our  plan  of  action.  Will 
he  announce  his  messianic  pretensions  to  the  people 
at  once! 

JUDAS.     No;  he  commanded  us  to  keep  it  secret 
RUTH.     For  how  long? 


ACT  I  53 

JUDAS.  He  does  not  say.  I  fancy  he  intends  to 
wait  until  he  arrives  in  Jerusalem  at  the  Passover. 

RUTH.     You  are  sure? 

JUDAS.  At  least,  he  definitely  stated  his  objec 
tive  to  be  Jerusalem. 

RUTH.     With  the  sword? 

JUDAS.     He  has  refused  the  sword. 

RUTH.  Good!  The  announcement  will  fall 
flat  and  his  fickle  Galileans  will  desert  him.  I  see 
clearly;  you  must  stay  with  him  till  then. 

JUDAS.  That  is  out  of  the  question;  I  cannot 
pretend. 

RUTH.  Nonsense!  You  believe  him  dangerous 
to  Israel  ?  Surely  you  do !  Does  he  not  teach  against 
the  Law  and  the  Tradition?  That  is  blasphemy, 
punishable  with  death. 

JUDAS.  Yes;  but  when  have  we  punished  blas 
phemy  that  way?  The  important  thing  is  Israel's 
independence  of  Rome. 

RUTH.  But  he  will  not  fight.  Is  it  right  he 
should  raise  expectations  only  to  disappoint  them? 
If  you  break  with  him  now,  how  many  of  his  fol 
lowers  would  come  to  you  while  they  still  believe  in 
him?  You  will  simply  divide  forces,  Rome  will  be 
warned  in  time,  and —  But  you  see  the  outcome. 

JUDAS.     Possibly. 

RUTH.  It's  a  certainty.  But  if  you  stay  with 
him —  In  fact,  I  know  through  Uncle  Annas  the 
Sanhedrin  only  wait  a  favorable  opportunity  to  ar 
rest  him  and  get  him  out  of  the  way.  What  better 
time  than  when  his  following  suddenly  awakes  to 


54  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

the  fact  that  he  does  not  intend  to  fight?  This 
must  happen  in  Jerusalem;  hardly  sooner.  Then 
denounce  him  to  the  Sanhedrin  as  one  who  knows 
him  thoroughly.  Do  you  doubt  the  people  will  turn 
to  you?  And  remember,  you  will  have  the  San- 
hedrin's  favor. 

JUDAS.  Were  I  but  sure  the  people  would  un 
derstand. 

RUTH.     Always  the  people! 

JUDAS  (with  sudden  decision).  Yes,  I  will  stay 
with  him  till  then. 

RUTH.     You  have  only  the  Romans  to  fear. 

JUDAS.    Ah-h ! 

RUTH.     But  they  can  be — placated. 

JUDAS  (starts).  Placated?  Can  Israel  make 
peace  with  the  oppressor?  No!  Israel  must  drive 
out  the  Romans. 

RUTH.  Perhaps,  when  the  Messiah  is  really 
come;  not  now.  To  talk  of  Rome's  expulsion  is 
sheer  folly. 

She  rises  and  steps  toward  him. 

JUDAS  (sharply).    Ruth! 

RUTH.  It  is  true,  nevertheless.  Rome  is  too 
strong  for  you.  Israel's  king,  if  we  are  ever  to  have 
one,  must  recognize  Rome  as  overlord. 

JUDAS.  Never!  Israel  has  but  one  Lord.  You 
would  betray  us. 

RUTH.  Not  so  fast,  Judas.  The  Sanhedrin  is 
wise.  It  is  known  to  them  that  the  emperor  wearies 
of  the  Judean  procuratorship.  It  is  expected  he  will 
recall  Pilate  shortly  and  appoint  a  Herod  as  our 


ACT  I  55 

king.  But  Uncle  Annas,  Caiaphas  and  others  real 
ize  that  an  Idumean  will  not  be  acceptable  to  Israel, 
and  they  are  planning  to  ask  for  a  native  king.  If 
you  denounce  Jeshua  to  them,  whom  else  but  you 
could  they  name  to  the  emperor  for  king,  Prince 
Judas  of  the  house  of  David? 

JUDAS  (greatly  perturbed).  It  cannot  be!  It 
must  be  the  sword  and  a  free  people.  It  cannot  be 
otherwise —  Yet — yet,  perhaps —  After  all,  that 
way  the  Romans  will  leave  us  largely  free.  What 
if— - 

RUTH.  You  will  unite  all  Israel  under  one 
Davidic  rule. 

JUDAS.  And  purge  Samaria  of  our  ancestral 
foes! 

RUTH.     Lifting  the  sword  against  them. 

JUDAS.  And  then,  when  we  are  one  people,  we 
shall  rise  in  our  strength  and  laugh  at  Rome! 

RUTH.  But  in  the  meantime,  Rome  shall  be  our 
friend? 

JUDAS  (fiercely).  Till  then,  yes!  I  accept  your 
plan ;  yet  how  much  simpler  to  take  up  the  sword  at 
once. 

RUTH.  And  lose  everything.  No,  my  way  is 
best. 

JUDAS.     And  you  will  be  mine! 

RUTH  (looks  away).    When  you  are  king. 

Distant  thunder  rumbles  again,  and  faint  light 
ning  quivers  over  the  mountain. 

JUDAS.     I  am  content.    Kiss  me! 

He  approaches  her  eagerly;  but  she  avoids  him. 


56  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

RUTH.     No,  Judas,  no !  he  still  lives. 

JUDAS  (surprised).  What  has  that  to  do  with 
it? 

RUTH  (violently).  Oh,  I  hate  him!  I  hate  him! 
I  could  tear  him  limb  from  limb  and  laugh  to  see 
him  writhe  as  the  flesh  quivers  and  bursts — oh! — 
(pressing  her  hands  quickly  to  her  breast)  though  I 
should  die  for  it ! 

The  distant  lightning  and  thunder  increase. 

JUDAS.  Why,  Ruth,  this  is  madness!  What 
harm  has  he  done  you  ? 

RUTH.  What  harm  has  he  done  me?  (She 
laughs  bitterly.)  He  has  cursed  my  life.  Oh,  to 
crush  him  underfoot!  (She  becomes  aware  of  Judas' 
look  of  horror  and  approaches  him  piteously.) 
Judas,  you  will  denounce  him,  wont  you?  (As  he 
steps  back,  she  follows,  puts  her  arms  around  his 
neck  and  pulls  his  head  down.)  Judas,  you  love 
me,  don't  you? 

The  distant  thunder  growls  an  accompaniment  to 
the  flickering  lightning  and  a  rising  wind  begins  to 
snatch  at  the  leaves  and  branches.  At  the  same  time 
Judas  resists  her  for  a  moment  more,  and  then  sud 
denly  yields  to  her  caress  and  kisses  her  passion 
ately. 

JUDAS.     Ruth ! 

RUTH  (clings  to  him).  You  wont  disappoint 
me? 

JUDAS  (hoarsely).    Is  his  death  so  much  to  you? 

RUTH.  Think,  when  he  dies,  you  will  be  my 
king! 


VISION  I  57 

JUDAS.     My  queen! 

He  kisses  her  again,  and  then  she  disengages  her- 
self. 

RUTH.     Enough.     Now  go  before  the  storm. 

JUDAS.     Darling,  till  Jerusalem! 

He  gives  her  a  last  kiss,  then  goes  out  quickly 
through  the  opening  and  along  the  roadway  to  the 
right.  For  a  while  she  stands  stupefied,  then  with 
growing  horror  exclaims. 

RUTH.  He  said  he  was  the  Messiah!  It  cannot 
be! 

A  blinding  flash  of  lightning  is  followed  by  a 
crash  of  thunder.  She  screams  and  runs  out  under 
the  sycamores.  Heavy  storm  clouds  roll  in  and 
blot  out  the  entire  scene.  Lightning  flashes  momen 
tarily  reveal  the  furiously  driving  clouds  and  thun 
der  cracks  and  roars.  By  degrees  the  storm  lessens, 
the  lightning  only  flickers,  the  thunder  reverberates 
from  greater  distances,  and  slowly  the  whirling 
clouds  come  to  rest. 

VISION  I 

Imperceptibly,  the  thunder  turns  into  deep  solemn 
music  that  swells  majestically  and  seems  to  fill  all 
space,  the  lightning  fades  into  a  gentle  radiance  that 
glows  steadily  in  the  heart  of  the  clouds  and  grad 
ually  spreads  and  illumines  all,  and  the  clouds  melt 
into  an  almost  perfectly  transparent  luminous  mist. 
As  the  radiance  increases,  slowly  through  the  mist 
there  comes  to  view  a  mountain  top,  terminating  in  a 
broad  flat  rock.  An  irregular  path  leads  down  from 
this  rock  toward  the  front  and  still  going  down  turns 
to  the  left  and  so  out.  Down  the  left  slope,  but 


5$  THE  MESSIAH  APPEARS 

above  the  path,  several  irregular  boulders  screen  the 
path  from  view  of  the  top.  Down  the  right  slope 
a  bramble  cluster  clings  precariously  to  the  rocky 
soil.  Here  and  there  on  the  slopes  appear  patches 
of  turf.  White  luminous  clouds  hang  over  all. 

On  the  mountain  top,  in  the  center  of  the  radi 
ance,  Jeshua  stands  in  glowing  white,  the  radiance 
streaming  from  him  and  throwing  the  mountain  in 
bright  relief.  He  stands  with  face  up-turned  as  if  in 
rapt  contemplation  of  ineffable  mysteries.  Below 
and  a  little  in  front  of  him  three  Disciples  crouch  in 
wonder  and  expectation,  Symeon,  Jacob  and  Joch- 
anan.  At  the  left  Judas  lurks  in  the  shadow  of  the 
boulders  and  peers  out  at  his  Master  in  startled  sur 
prise,  this  yielding  to  agitated  terror  as  the  Vision 
unfolds.  Similarly  at  the  right  Ruth  hides  in  the 
shadow  of  the  brambles  and  furtively  gazes  at  Jesh 
ua  in  a  fascination  that  gradually  turns  to  horror 
with  the  progress  of  the  Vision. 

The  music  sinks  to  a  low  deep  murmur,  sugges 
tive  of  infinite  repose,  with  which,  as  the  Vision  de 
velops,  interweaves  and  mingles  with  increasing  dis 
tinctness,  the  throbbing  motif  of  terror. 

JOCHANAN.     The  Master  communes  alone. 

SYMEON.     He  is  the  Messiah  indeed! 

JACOB.     The  King  of  Israel,  our  Deliverer! 

JOCHANAN.  And  we  behold  his  glory,  glory  as 
of  the  only  begotten  of  the  Father,  full  of  grace  and 
truth! 

JESHUA  (exalted).  My  meat  is  to  do  the  will 
of  him  that  sent  me  and  bring  his  work  to  its  com 
pletion. 


VISION  I  59 

As  he  speaks,  the  luminous  clouds  sink  lower  over 
him,  a  radiance  of  greater  brilliancy  pours  down  up 
on  him,  and  a  Voice  from  Heaven,  deep,  vibrant,  fill 
ing  all  space  as  if  bearing  infinity  in  its  tones,  speaks. 

VOICE  FROM  HEAVEN.  Lift  up  your  eyes  upon 
him  whom  I  have  chosen,  my  beloved  Son,  and  hear 
him! 

At  the  sound  of  the  Voice  the  three  Disciples  pros 
trate  themselves,  Ruth  looks  at  Jeshua  in  frozen  hor 
ror,  and  Judas  starts  in  terror.  As  It  ceases,  he 
slowly  presses  back  and  goes  out  along  the  path. 

DISCIPLES.     The  Voice!    The  Voice! 

VOICES  (from  above).  Blessed  are  they  that  hear 
the  word  of  God  and  keep  it. 

RUTH  (presses  hands  to  breast  and  moans).  The 
light!  No,  no!  it  cannot  be! 

The  clouds  lift,  the  radiance  dies  out  and  Jeshua 
turns  to  his  Disciples.  At  the  same  time  Ruth 
starts,  looks  about  hastily  and  goes  out  swiftly  down 
the  right  slope.  The  Disciples  awake  as  if  from  a 
trance  and  look  about  confusedly.  Jeshua  joins 
them,  and  they  arise. 

SYMEON  (incoherently).  Master!  We  saw — 
There  was  a  Voice!  Moses  and  Elijah — (looking 
about  in  perplexity)  were  they  not  here?  Was  it  a 
revelation  ? 

JESHUA  (steps  to  path).  Come,  let  us  go  down 
now. 

The  Vision  fades  into  rolling  clouds,  across  which 
lightning  still  flickers,  while  the  music  dies  away  in 
the  faint  reverberations  of  distant  thunder. 


ACT  II 
THE  MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 


A  certain  man  said:  1  will  follow  thee  whitherso 
ever  thou  goest.  JESHUA  BAR- JOSEPH  saith:  The 
foxes  have  holes  and  the  birds  of  heaven  nests;  but 
the  Son  of  Adam  hath  not  where  to  lay  his  head. 

JESHUA  BAR-JOSEPH  saith:  Woe  unto  you,  law 
yers!  for  ye  load  men  with  burdens  grievous  to  be 
borne,  and  ye  yourselves  touch  not  the  burdens  with 
one  of  your  fingers.  Woe  unto  you!  for  ye  build  the 
tombs  of  the  prophets,  and  your  fathers  killed  them. 
Woe  unto  you!  for  ye  took  away  the  key  of  knowl 
edge;  ye  entered  not  in  yourselves,  and  them  that 
were  entering  in  ye  hindered. 

— The  Words  of  Jeshua  bar- Joseph 


ACT  II 
THE  MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

That  portion  of  the  Court  of  the  Women  in  the 
Temple  at  Jerusalem,  which  discloses  the  eastern 
gate,  known  among  Israelites  as  the  Gate  Beautiful, 
with  its  portico;  the  first  day  of  that  week  on  the 
sixth  day  of  which  the  Passover  will  fall. 

A  massive  masonry  wall  entirely  fills  the  nearer 
background,  except  where  it  is  pierced  at  center  by 
a  huge  gateway  and  two  windows.  The  gateway 
rises  above  the  level  of  the  gallery  and  is  closed  by 
two  heavy  hinged  gates  of  Corinthian  bronze,  swing 
ing  out  and  back.  Heavy  metal  bolts  and  bars 
fasten  these  doors  when  closed.  At  present  they 
stand  open  and  are  not  visible  to  the  spectator  who 
may  happen  to  stand  within  the  Court  of  the 
Women.  The  two  windows  are  narrow,  barred  and 
embrasured,  and  stand  one  on  each  side  of  the  gate 
way  and  under  the  gallery.  This  gallery,  which  is 
a  spacious  one  of  ornamental  stone,  projects  into  the 
Court  of  the  Women  from  the  masonry  wall  at  a 
height  of  some  fifteen  feet  and  is  supported  by  marble 
columns.  A  flight  of  stone  steps,  starting  a  little  to 
the  left  of  the  left  window,  rises  along  the  wall 
to  a  low  platform  further  left,  from  which  at  right 
angles  to  its  former  direction  it  rises  forward  to  the 
gallery  and  gives  on  it  at  the  left.  A  similar  flight 
at  the  right  of  the  right  window  gives  on  the  gallery 
at  the  right.  A  low  balustrade  extends  along  the 
entire  front  of  the  gallery  and  more  clearly  marks 
63 


64      MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

the  spacious  bow  into  which  the  gallery  bel 
lies  midway.  Also  a  balustrade  extends  across  the 
upper  opening  of  the  gateway.  Several  benches  are 
placed  at  irregular  intervals  in  the  gallery. 

Of  the  marble  columns  which  uphold  the  gallery 
six  are  visible,  so  placed  that  one  has  an  unobstructed 
view  through  the  gateway  and  windows  of  the 
distant  background,  although  one  may  not  at  first 
notice  this  background  because  of  his  absorption  in 
the  details  of  the  portico.  A  cursory  glance  shows 
that  the  space  beneath  each  flight  of  stairs  is  in 
closed,  presumably  to  form  rooms,  since  a  closed 
door  is  visible  under  each  flight.  A  stone  bench 
stands  under  each  window.  A  small  table  h.as  been 
placed  a  little  to  the  left  and  in  front  of  the  second 
column  from  the  left,  and  there  is  also  a  small  chair, 
in  fact  only  a  stool,  to  the  left  of  the  table.  This 
column  is  bracketed  on  its  left  side  for  the  attach 
ment  of  a  horn-shaped  money  or  collection  box,  al 
though  the  box  is  not  in  place  yet.  A  similar  ar 
rangement  of  table,  chair  and  brackets  may  be  seen 
at  the  second  column  from  the  right.  This  portico 
opens  out  on  the  spacious  Court  of  the  Women  in 
which  the  spectator  presumably  stands,  and  which 
therefore  extends  for  a  great  distance  to  the  left 
and  right  in  front  of  the  columns. 

Beyond  the  inclosing  wall  of  the  Court  of  the 
Women  a  narrow  stone  terrace  extends,  as  may  be 
seen  through  the  open  gateway.  This  terrace  leads 
down  into  the  great  Court  of  the  Gentiles  by  a 
flight  of  broad  steps;  but  since  the  level  of  this 
Court  is  so  much  lower  than  the  level  of  the  Court 
of  the  Women,  it  is  entirely  invisible  from  the  in- 


ACT  II  65 

terior  of  the  latter.  However,  in  the  distant  back 
ground  can  be  seen  quite  plainly  through  the  open 
gateway  the  top  of  the  outer  inclosing  wall  of  the 
entire  Temple  area.  Above  and  at  a  great  distance 
beyond  this  wall  the  tree-covered  summit  of  Mount 
Olivet  fills  the  remote  background. 

It  is  late  afternoon  of  a  pleasant  spring  day  at  the 
hour  of  the  evening  sacrifice. 

It  must  be  a  little  early  for  the  sacrifice;  for  the 
somnolent  atmosphere  of  the  Temple  courts  is 
only  accentuated  by  the  snoring  of  a  nondescript 
Beggar,  scantily  clad  in  a  once  white  loincloth  and 
sadin  and  lying  asleep  within  the  gateway,  the  only 
living  creature  in  sight.  However,  there  are  other 
living  creatures  near,  since  the  lowing  of  cattle,  the 
bleating  of  sheep,  sounds  of  movements  and  mur 
muring  voices  rise  occasionally  from  the  Court  of 
the  Gentiles;  but  all  sounds  are  faint  as  if  coming 
from  some  distance. 

Just  when  one  becomes  convinced  that  sleep  has 
become  permanent  master  of  the  Temple,  a  Temple 
Guard  enters  leisurely  at  the  right  front  on  patrol 
to  the  left  and  out.  He  takes  two  or  three  steps, 
when  another  Temple  Guard  enters  at  the  left  front 
on  patrol  to  the  right  and  out.  There  is  nothing 
characteristic  of  these  and  other  Guards,  who  appear 
later,  except  they  are  all  stalwart  young  men,  who 
take  their  police  duties  lightly  and  appreciate  the 
fact  that  theirs  is  an  idler's  task.  Each  is  clothed 
in  a  salmon-colored  kethoneth,  with  darker  tinted 
sash  and  turban  and  also  leather  sandals,  while  a 
short  sword  is  tucked  in  the  sash  at  the  left  and  a 
broad-bladed  spear  is  carried  in  the  right  hand. 


66      MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

They  draw  near  to  pass.  The  First  Guard  stretches 
his  arms  and  yawns. 

FIRST  GUARD.  Ho,  hum-m!  Strange,  nobody 
is  here  yet. 

SECOND  GUARD.  And  nearly  sacrifice  time  at 
that.  But — 

Very  distant  shouts  are  heard  faintly.  Both 
Guards  stop  abruptly  and  turn  toward  the  gate 
way,  listening. 

FIRST  GUARD.     Perhaps,  that's  the  explanation. 

SECOND  GUARD.     Below  Olivet? 

FIRST  GUARD.  From  the  Kidron  valley.  Gone 
to  see  some  juggler,  like  enough. 

SECOND  GUARD.  Like  enough.  (He  discovers 
the  Beggar  and  steps  to  him  with  a  laugh.)  I 
can  juggle,  too;  see!  (He  kicks  the  Beggar  awake.) 
Here,  out  you  go ! 

BEGGAR.     Oh — oh — ow !      Mercy,   my  lord ! 

SECOND  GUARD.  Out!  it's  prayer  time;  do  your 
begging  below.  Quick! 

The  Beggar  has  already  sprung  to  his  feet,  and 
now  that  he  sees  his  assailant  approach  him  again, 
he  runs  out  to  the  edge  of  the  terrace  and  stands 
ready  to  run  down  into  the  Court  of  the  Gentiles, 
should  it  become  necessary. 

BEGGAR.     Hold  on ;  I'm  going. 

SECOND  GUARD.  Then  go!  (The  distant  shouts 
are  heard  again  faintly.)  Go,  join  your  shouting 
brothers  in  the  valley! 

BEGGAR  (listens).  If  it's  he,  there's  better  pick 
ings  there  than  here. 


ACT  II  67 

He  begins  to  descend  the  steps  into  the  lower 
Court. 

SECOND  GUARD.     Who  is  that? 

BEGGAR.  That's  for  you  to  find  out,  ha!  (As 
he  disappears  down  the  steps f  he  flings  back.)  And 
may  your  sons  die,  your  wife  be  barren,  and  you 
live  to  curse  the  day  of  your  birth,  swine's  son ! 

SECOND  GUARD  (wrathfully).  Dare  to  come 
back,  field  born! 

The  cackling  laughter  of  the  Beggar  is  heard, 
while  the  Second  Guard,  still  fuming,  turns  and 
comes  forward  to  join  the  First  Guard  who  is  now 
standing  just  within  the  gateway  and  laughing  good- 
naturedly  at  his  discomfiture. 

SECOND  GUARD.  Yes,  laugh;  but  to  what  are 
we  coming  with  beggars  making  sport  of  Temple 
servants?  I  wonder  whom  he  meant? 

FIRST  GUARD.  How  should  I  know?  Some 
ball-tosser,  or  brewer  of  herbs, — unless,  perhaps — 
There  is  a  rumor — 

Both  have  entered  the  portico  while  conversing. 
This  conversation  is  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of 
a  Levite  from  the  room  under  the  flight  of  stairs  at 
the  left.  He  is  a  fat,  smirking,  oleaginous  villain 
that  knows  good  food  and  smacks  his  lips  over  any 
juicy  bit  of  scandal.  It  is  evident  that  he  has  come 
up  from  the  country  and  finds  the  unrestrained  se 
ductions  of  the  large  city  congenial  to  his  native  in 
stincts.  A  close  familiarity  with  the  material  ele 
ments  of  the  Temple  ritual  seems  to  have  deadened 
his  appreciation  of  its  spiritual  significance,  and  his 
periodic  absence  from  home  with  its  wholesome  re- 


68      MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

straints  has  given  his  roving  spirit  abundant  oppor 
tunity  for  various  exciting  gratifications.  As  to  ex 
ternals,  he  is  clothed  in  the  usual  white  Levitical 
kethoneth,  bare  of  foot  and  bare  of  head.  He  carries 
a  large  money-horn  of  copper,  narrow  at  top  and 
flaring  at  bottom,  as  well  as  a  money-bag,  and  goes 
to  the  left  table.  As  he  begins  to  talk,  he  hangs 
the  money-horn  on  the  brackets  of  the  column  near 
his  table,  sits  at  the  table,  empties  his  money-bag  on 
it  and  arranges  the  coins  in  suitable  piles,  all  the 
while  talking. 

LEVITE.  Gossiping?  Some  pretty  wench,  eh, 
Ichabod  ?  She  was  a  dainty  one,  the  last  you — ah-h ! 
.  FIRST  GUARD  (laughs}.  Ha,  still  thinking  of 
Rachel? 

LEVITE  (with  mock  blissfulness).  The  fragrance 
of  her  breath,  myrrh  and  aloes ! 

SECOND  GUARD.  Fie,  out  upon  you,  Manasseh ! 
And  the  Passover  almost  here! 

LEVITE  (lugubriously).  True,  most  true!  And 
it's  my  course  at  the  Temple  this  week  and  all 
through  Passover,  too!  Ah  me!  So  sweet  a  bit  of 
woman  flesh  and  here  I  must  live  two  whole  weeks 
over  the  shambles.  Will  I  ever  get  the  smell  of  the 
sacrifices  out  of  my  nose?  Ugh,  what  a  stench! 
But  she  shall  bathe  in  rosewater — 

From  now  on  Men  and  Women  come  up  the  ter 
race  steps  and  enter  the  portico  either  singly  or  in 
groups.  They  include  the  various  types  and  classes 
of  Israel,  their  social  position  and  personal  fancy 
dictating  their  apparel.  The  Women  especially  are 
picturesque  in  bright  colors.  These  latter  ascend  to 


ACT  II  69 

the  gallery  and  there  stand  or  sit,  for  the  most  part 
idly  gossiping.  The  Men  either  loiter  in  the  portico 
or  pass  through  it  and  out  in  front  of  the  columns 
at  the  left  and  right.  Now  and  then  a  worshiper 
drops  one  or  more  coins  in  the  money-horn  with  a 
resounding  clang,  and  occasionally  both  this  Levite 
and  another  who  enters  at  this  point  are  called  upon 
to  make  change. 

This  Second  Levite,  clothed  in  white  as  is  the 
former,  enters  from  the  room  under  the  stairs  at 
the  right,  carrying  a  money-horn  and  money-bag. 
He  is  a  cadaverous  looking  scamp,  apparently  fond 
of  handling  money.  He  hangs  up  his  money-horn 
on  the  brackets  of  the  second  column  from  the  right, 
sits  at  the  table  nearby  and  empties  out  his  money 
bag  prepared  for  business. 

Among  the  worshipers  an  occasional  Pharisee 
enters.  He  may  be  instantly  recognized  by  his  ar 
rogance,  proud  silence  and  avoidance  of  contact  with 
others,  as  well  as  by  the  elaborate  tassels  on  the 
four  corners  of  his  simlah  and  by  the  leather  phylac 
tery  bound  to  his  forehead  and  another  bound  to  his 
upper  left  arm,  concealed  but  evident  by  the  leather 
thong  that  wraps  his  left  wrist  and  middle  finger. 

The  arrival  of  the  first  worshipers  does  not,  how 
ever,  interrupt  the  gossiping  of  the  Guard  and 
Levite. 

FIRST  GUARD.  Ho,  ho!  my  dainty  Manasseh! 
At  least  Chiefpriest  Annas  doesn't  mind  the  smell  of 
cattle. 

FIRST  LEVITE.  Huh,  why  should  he?  He  gets 
a  fat  rake-off  from  the  cattle  market  in  the  outer 
court. 


70      MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

He  waves  his  hand  toward  the  Court  of  the  Gen 
tiles,  from  which  arise  again  the  lowing  of  cattle  and 
the  bleating  of  sheep.  The  First  Guard  turns  to  go 
out  at  the  left  in  front  of  the  columns,  and  as  he 
passes  the  First  Levite,  he  speaks. 

FIRST  GUARD.  Pretty  thing  for  an  ex-high- 
priest,  that!  Moses  forbids  trading  in  the  Temple 
area. 

A  Man  has  just  dropped  a  coin  into  the  First 
Levite's  money-horn,  and  as  he  goes  out,  joins  with 
the  First  Guard  in  conversation. 

MAN.  Yet  it  does  save  our  having  to  bring  ani 
mals  from  town  for  the  sacrifice.  That  is  a  clear 
gain. 

Both  Man  and  Guard  go  out  still  talking.  At 
the  same  time  the  First  Levite  turns  and  addresses 
the  Second  Levite. 

FIRST  LEVITE.  Well,  Aaron,  just  in  time  for 
the  crowd,  I  see. 

The  distant  shouts  are  heard  again  somewhat 
louder  than  before,  as  if  the  shouting  crowd  were 
gradually  coming  nearer.  The  Second  Guard,  who 
has  been  conversing  quietly  with  the  Second  Levite, 
turns  quickly  toward  the  terrace  listening. 

SECOND  LEVITE.     What  is  that  shouting? 

SECOND  GUARD.  Wait!  it  seems  I  can —  They 
are  shouting  'Hosanna'! 

He  goes  out  on  the  terrace,  turns  to  the  right 
and  so  goes  out,  his  head  just  showing  for  an  instant 
through  the  narrow  window  as  he  passes  it  on  the 
other  side. 

SECOND  LEVITE  (mutters  to  himself).     But  it's 


ACT  II  71 

not  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles. 

A  group  of  Women  come  up  the  terrace  steps 
chatting  and  enter  the  gateway. 

FIRST  WOMAN.     Did  you  ever  see  such  a  crowd  ? 

SECOND  WOMAN.     Just  escaped  it,  I  say! 

THIRD  WOMAN.  How  they  poured  down  Beth 
any  road  and  up  the  valley!  You'd  think  Passover 
had  begun.  (She  drops  a  coin  in  the  First  Levite's 
money-horn.)  Ho,  Manasseh,  burning  incense  on 
a  new  altar  I  hear,  ha,  ha!  Miriam  hasn't  seen 
you  in  Bethlehem  for —  It's  over  a  month,  eh, 
Miriam  ? 

The  Woman  addressed  is  going  up  the  stairs  at 
the  left  and  speaks  over  her  shoulder. 

SECOND  WOMAN.  Tch-tch;  is  it  that  long?  I 
hadn't  noticed. 

FIRST  LEVITE.  But,  Miriam,  you  see — eh,  eh — 
I — the  business  of  the  Temple — 

SECOND  WOMAN.  Oh  much  nicer,  now  that 
you  don't  come.  Come,  Sarah. 

FIRST  LEVITE.    But,  Miriam — 

SECOND  WOMAN  (laughs).  Ha,  ha!  Look  at 
him  squirm  now,  girls!  Tut-tut,  Manasseh;  run 
with  that  hussy  for  all  I  care.  Good  riddance,  I 
say! 

The  three  Women  enter  the  gallery  by  the  left 
flight  and  sit  in  the  bow  talking  animatedly. 

SECOND  LEVITE  (laughs).  Wow  but  she  got 
you  that  time,  ha,  ha! 

FIRST  LEVITE  (ruefully).  That  comes  of  going 
with  one  too  long.  They're  all  alike.  Go  to  'em 


72      MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

twice,  and  they  cry  if  you  don't  stick  to  'em  right 
along.  Bah!  Give  me  a  change  of  diet. 

Among  the  increasing  number  of  worshipers  en 
tering  the  portico  two  Men  now  enter  from  the  ter 
race  in  earnest  conversation,  and  as  they  talk,  they 
walk  slowly  forward  and  then  go  out  at  the  right 
in  front  of  the  columns  still  talking. 

SECOND  MAN.  But  I  tell  you,  Bildad,  the 
people  are  right. 

VOICES  (very  faint,  off  stage).  Son  of  David, 
hosanna ! 

SECOND  MAN.  Hear  them  shouting!  I  care 
not  whether  he  is  son  of  David  or  son  of  Satan,  if 
he  will  only  lead  us  against  Rome,  damned  infidels ! 
What  a  chance  he  has  with  these  crowds! 

THIRD  MAN.  Oh,  I'm  with  you,  Jonadab,  in 
hating  the  Romans,  with  their  haughty  eagle  over 
looking  the  Temple  and  their  indecent  theater  and 
games  in  our  city.  Herod  and  Rome  together  have 
made  Jerusalem  more  Greek  than  Jew.  Even  our 
boys  forego  the  Law  to  compete  in  the  games.  And 
yet— 

SECOND  MAN.  I  know  your  scruples;  no  pro 
phet  to  show  the  way,  no  word  of  God — 

THIRD  MAN.  Of  course,  there  was  Jochanan 
the  Baptist,  surely  a  prophet  of  God ;  but  he's  gone. 
At  any  rate,  our  Deliverer  is  to  come  suddenly, 
chosen  by  the  Ever  Blessed  One,  not  by  the  rabble. 

SECOND  MAN.  Still,  we  must  be  rid  of  Rome's 
polluting  touch,  somehow. 

They  go  out  talking. 

SECOND  LEVITE.     Hear  that,  Manasseh?     Must 


ACT  II  73 

be  that  Galilean  mountebank  they're  talking  about. 
What  sport  if  he  comes  up  here !    But  as  to  Rome — 

FIRST  LEVITE.  Just  so,  Aaron;  Rome  does 
brighten  life  in  town.  What  with  her  games  and — 
By  the  way,  didn't  I  see  you —  Huh,  what's  that? 

He  turns  impatiently  to  a  Man  who  has  just 
shaken  him  by  the  shoulder  to  get  his  attention. 

FOURTH  MAN.  Come,  come;  change  me  this 
tetradrachm,  and  don't  chatter  all  day! 

FIRST  LEVITE  (looks  up).  Half-shekels,  denars, 
or  pence? 

FOURTH  MAN.  Denars  and  pence;  do  I  give 
half-shekels  to  the  poor  box? 

FIRST  LEVITE  (makes  change).  No,  I  warrant; 
nor  even  denars,  your  vineyard  pays  too  well. 

FOURTH  MAN  (counts  change).  Here,  you  have 
kept  out  five  pence.  Exchange  is  only  four. 

FIRST  LEVITE.  Not  today.  The  rate  is  up  since 
you  cornered  the  wine  market. 

FOURTH  MAN.  Usurer!  Well,  no  penny  in 
your  horn  today. 

He  stalks  off  disgustedly  toward  the  right,  drops 
a  coin  in  the  Second  Levite's  money-horn  with  os 
tentation,  and  goes  out  of  the  portico.  The  First 
Levite  laughs  good-naturedly  and  turns  to  others 
that  demand  his  attention.  In  the  meantime  the 
Women  in  the  gallery  give  evidence  that  the  sac 
rifice  is  about  to  begin.  They  look  and  point  for 
ward  through  the  Court  of  the  Women  presumably 
into  the  Court  of  Israel  within  which  the  Temple 
proper  stands  with  its  altar  of  sacrifice  and  other  ap 
purtenances. 


74      MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

FOURTH  WOMAN  (in  gallery).  See,  the  priests 
are  casting  lots  for  the  sacrifice. 

FIRST  WOMAN  (in  gallery).     It  is  high  time. 

FIRST  LEVITE.  Ho,  Aaron,  what  was  I  saying? 
Oh,  the  games!  Didn't  I  see  you  there  with  the 
beauty  of  Hazor  last  Second  Day?  Shame  on  you, 
you  rogue!  How  did  you  get  her? 

Confused  shouts  are  heard  again,  this  time  as  if 
from  no  great  distance  away.  The  incoming  wor 
shipers  on  the  terrace  turn  to  look  off  back.  Some 
Women  in  the  gallery  move  to  the  upper  opening  of 
the  gateway  and  look  out  into  the  Court  of  the 
Gentiles. 

SECOND  LEVITE.  And  methinks  I  saw  you  cast 
ing  eyes  at — well,  you  know — with  the  Roman 
captain.  I  say  no  more.  But  even  if  stories  about 
her  are  true,  she's  above  you. 

FIRST  LEVITE.  Think  so  ?  She  has  been  getting 
reckless  of  late.  I  hear  she  is  very  much  at  home 
to  the  captain. 

The  Women  in  the  boiv  of  the  gallery  stop  talk 
ing  as  one  indicates  the  conversation  going  on  below, 
and  they  lean  over  to  listen. 

SECOND  LEVITE.     Perhaps. 

FIRST  LEVITE.  However,  she  ought  to  keep  it 
quiet,  not  flaunt  the  Roman  conquest  in  our  very 
eyes. 

SECOND  WOMAN.  Fie  on  you  for  talking  about 
a  priest's  daughter!  But  (with  a  wise  look) 
wouldn't  you  like  to  know  what  cousin  Abigail  tells  ? 
Her  maid,  you  know,  ha,  ha! 

SECOND  LEVITE.     What's  that,  my  pretty? 


ACT  II  75 

SECOND  WOMAN.     Umh-umh. 

THIRD  WOMAN.  Oh,  we  know.  Last  week 
mistress  Ruth — 

FIRST  WOMAN.     Mustn't  name  names  here! 

THIRD  WOMAN.  Pish !  everyone  knows  it's  she ! 
In  Paneas  town  last  week,  a  red-headed  chap,  a 
noble,  handsome  too — h'm-m. 

FIRST  LEVITE.     What  do  you  say  now,  Aaron? 

SECOND  WOMAN.  And  Abigail  has  since  seen 
him  with — who  d'you  think? — the  prophet  Jeshua! 

FIRST  LEVITE.  Yes,  they  do  say  that  'prophet' 
and  his  disciples  go  about  with  a  pack  of  women  that 
are — well,  not  exactly  in  polite  society. 

THIRD  WOMAN.    Ho,  ho!  hear  him  talk! 

A  faint  tinkling  of  bells  is  heard  in  the  distance 
and  continues  to  sound  irregularly  throughout  the 
following  until  the  Fifth  Woman  speaks. 

FIRST  WOMAN  (looks  up).  Sh-sh,  there  is  Ca- 
iaphas  at  last,  selecting  the  lamb.  How  his  bells 
tinkle  as  he  walks! 

At  this  point  among  others  four  or  five  Men  in 
a  group  enter  the  portico  from  the  terrace  and  pass 
through  toward  the  left  front  conversing. 

FIFTH  MAN.  No!  The  measure  of  Rome's 
wickedness  is  full.  Let  alone  the  ruin  of  our  daugh 
ters,  the  brutal  murder  of  our  sons  for  resisting  her 
abominations —  Think,  even  this  holy  Temple  lies 
polluted  under  the  tread  of  our  heathen  lords!  It 
is,  it  must  be  the  hour  of  rebellion! 

SIXTH  MAN.  Only  today  neighbor  Zeruel  runs 
to  me,  tears  streaming  down  his  eyes,  broken,  for 


76      MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

his  daughter  gone!  And  she  to  be  married  after 
Passover.  When  will  our  turn  be? 

SEVENTH  MAN.  But  will  the  Galilean  draw 
the  sword  ? 

SIXTH  MAN.  No  one  seems  to  know.  Yet  a 
call  to  arms  on  Passover  Day —  There  will  be  a 
hundred  thousand  men  here  and  more. 

FIFTH  MAN.  I  hear  thousands  of  Galileans  fol 
low  him  now. 

SEVENTH  MAN.  And  Pilate  comes  to  Jerusa 
lem  tomorrow.  Probably  heard  of  this  in  Gaesarea 
and  means  to  forestall — 

Confused  shouts  arise  again,  as  if  coming  from 
without  the  Temple  area,  yet  louder  than  before; 
and  an  occasional  phrase  sounds  out  clearly. 

VOICES  (off  stage).  Hosanna —  David —  in  the 
highest —  Hail — 

Confusion  fills  the  gallery  and  portico.  A  few  of 
the  Women  stay  in  the  gallery  and  look  out  through 
the  upper  opening  into  the  Court  of  the  Gentiles. 
The  rest,  however,  and  all  the  other  worshipers,  ex 
cept  a  Pharisee  who  has  just  entered  from  the  ter 
race,  gradually  empty  the  portico  and  gallery,  as  they 
go  out  upon  the  terrace  and  pass  down  into  the 
Court  of  the  Gentiles.  The  faint  tinkling  of  bells 
which  has  sounded  irregularly  in  the  distance  for 
some  time  now  dies  away.  Among  the  Women  still 
watching  the  preparations  for  the  sacrifice  one  ex 
claims  as  she  leaps  to  her  feet  in  excitement. 

FIFTH  WOMAN.     Caiaphas  is  leaving  the  lamb! 

FOURTH  WOMAN.  Must  be  coming  to  see 
what's  up.  Come;  we  can  see  from  the  balcony. 


ACT  II  77 

They  join  the  other  Women  at  the  upper  opening 
of  the  gateway  and  look  out  into  the  lower  Court. 
At  the  same  time  the  Pharisee  wrathfully  avoids 
contact  with  the  out-rushing  throng  and  presses 
forward. 

PHARISEE.  Out  of  my  way!  Don't  touch  me! 
What  swine! 

As  he  goes  out  at  the  left  in  front  of  the  columns, 
several  Priests  enter  excitedly  at  the  right  in  front 
of  the  columns  and  hurry  back  to  the  gateway.  They 
are  of  various  ages,  and  with  scarcely  an  exception 
are  physically  well  cared  for.  They  wear  the  usual 
priestly  linen  kethoneth  of  pure  white.  This  is  gath 
ered  at  the  waist  by  a  girdle  of  white,  crimson,  blue- 
purple  and  red-purple  intermixed.  As  they  move 
rapidly,  the  kethoneth  flies  open  below  the  waist 
and  reveals  the  white  mikhnesayim,  a  sort  of  linen 
breeches.  A  white  turban  covers  the  head,  but  no 
sandals  grace  their  feet.  The  two  Levites  stand  at 
their  tables. 

FIRST  PRIEST.  Ho,  guard !  guard !  Curse  it,  not 
a  one  in  sight! 

SECOND  PRIEST.  Off  to  see  the  prophet,  most 
likely. 

THIRD  PRIEST.  'Prophet',  huh!  Fool,  to  stir 
up  the  crowds  with  Pilate  due  here  tomorow. 

SECOND  PRIEST.  Another  fanatical  outburst  to 
involve  us  still  more  with  Rome! 

A  Temple  Guard  enters  along  the  terrace  from 
the  right. 

FIRST  PRIEST.  Here,  guard;  what  riot  is  this 
down  by  the  East  Gate? 


78      MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

THIRD  GUARD.  But,  father,  there  is  a  rumor — 
I  know  not —  Some  prophet  brings  an  army  of 
deliverance,  they  say. 

THIRD  PRIEST.     Here  is  news,  though! 

For  another  Temple  Guard  comes  running  up 
the  terrace  steps  and  bursts  in  on  them  panting. 

FOURTH  GUARD.  Ho,  priest!  Quick!  Jeshua 
comes — Galileans — shout  him — king ! 

FIRST  PRIEST.  King?  Then  may  the  Ever 
Blessed  One  have  mercy  on  us!  Abiathar,  to 
Annas  quick  with  the  news! 

The  Second  Priest  goes  out  on  the  run  at  the 
right  in  front  of  the  columns.  Confused  shouts 
and  voices  are  heard  as  if  coming  from  the  Court 
of  the  Gentiles  and  beyond.  The  First  Guard 
enters  along  the  terrace  from  the  left. 

FIRST  GUARD.     To  your  posts,  guards! 

The  Third  and  Fourth  Guards  go  out  along 
the  terrace  toward  the  right  and  left  respective 
ly.  At  the  same  moment  the  clear  insistent  call  of 
a  bugle  rises  and  falls  in  the  distance.  Instantly 
all  in  the  gallery,  portico  and  on  the  terrace  start 
in  terror  and  a  wailing  cry  rises  from  their  lips. 

SEVERAL.     Rome!     Rome!     Rome! 

FIRST  GUARD.  Hark!  Rome  awakes!  Already 
Captain  ^Emilianus  has  doubled  the  watch  at  the 
Antonia  Gate. 

THIRD  PRIEST.  Woe,  woe!  Now  is  our  judg 
ment  come ! 

Roman  Sentries  are  seen  through  the  gateway  and 
ivindows  moving  along  the  top  of  the  outer  wall 


ACT  II  79 

of  the  Temple  area,  manikin-size,  and  they  con 
tinue  to  patrol  the  wall  to  the  end  of  the  Act.  One 
of  the  Priests  indicates  the  Sentries  excitedly. 

FOURTH  PRIEST.  Lo,  our  shame!  Insolent 
Rome  treading  our  Temple  wall! 

VOICES  (off  stage).  Woe!  woe!  How  long,  O 
Lord?  Woe!  woe! 

The  wailing  dies  away. 

FIRST  PRIEST.  The  curse  of  the  Most  High  rest 
on  the  Galilean  for  this!  Woe! 

The  sharp  dying  bleat  of  a  lamb,  coming  appar 
ently  from  no  great  distance,  punctuates  the  tense 
atmosphere  and  arouses  the  Priests  to  a  realization 
of  their  duty.  They  immediately  desert  the  ter 
race,  reenter  the  portico  and  hurry  out  through  the 
Court  of  the  Women,  passing  in  front  of  the  col 
umns  toward  the  right  and  left  and  converse  as 
they  go. 

SECOND  LEVITE.     The  lamb  is  slain! 

FIRST  PRIEST.     The  sacrifice!     To  our  tasks! 

They  go  out.  The  Levites  resume  their  seats, 
and  several  Women  in  the  gallery  come  forward  as 
if  to  witness  the  sacrifice. 

FIRST  WOMAN.  Poor  thing!  The  blood —  Oh, 
it's  gasping  for  breath !  It's  dead ! 

THIRD  WOMAN.     What  a  lot  of  blood! 

SECOND  WOMAN.  Just  wait  until  Passover,  I 
say,  if  you  want  to  see  blood  run.  Once  I  saw  the 
priests  wading  in  it. 

FIRST  WOMAN  (shudders).    Brrh-h! 

The  portico  and  terrace  are  now  completely  de- 


8o      MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

serted  except  that  the  two  Levites  keep  to  their  tables 
and  the  First  Guard  stands  on  the  terrace  a  little 
to  the  left  of  the  gateway.  Former  Highpriest 
Annas,  Highpriest  Caiaphas,  Amraphel,  Captain  of 
the  Temple  Guard,  and  several  Temple  Guards  en 
ter  the  portico  from  the  right  in  front  of  the  columns 
and  pass  toiuard  the  gateway,  pausing  midway  of 
the  portico. 

Annas  is  a  short,  thin,  sharp,  imperious  man,  who 
thoroughly  knows  his  own  mind  and  will  not  scruple 
to  attain  his  ends,  whatever  the  sacrifice  involved. 
His  voice  is  thin  and  cutting,  and  tends  to  rise  dis 
agreeably  under  excitement.  He  wears  the  usual 
priestly  kethoneth,  mikhnesayim  and  turban  of 
white,  but  shows  that  he  was  once  a  highpriest  by 
the  blue  open  and  sleeved  meil  which  he  wears  over 
all.  One  may  notice  pomegranates  embroidered  in 
gold  thread  on  the  hem  of  the  meil. 

Caiaphas  is  a  large,  rather  benevolent  looking  fel 
low  with  a  chronic  aversion  to  assuming  responsibil 
ity  for  any  action,  quite  lethargic  in  fact.  He 
naturally  turns  to  his  father-in-law  as  the  more 
forceful  and  resourceful.  He  is  in  full  highpriestly 
vestments.  As  a  priest  he  wears  the  white  ketho 
neth,  turban  and  mikhnesayim,  although  the  last 
is  invisible  because  of  the  encircling  meil.  This 
meil,  which  the  highpriest  wears,  although  clear 
blue,  differs  from  that  of  Annas  in  that  it  is  entirely 
closed  in  front  and  has  no  sleeves,  thus  allowing  the 
white  sleeves  of  the  kethoneth  to  show.  It  differs 
further  in  the  fact  that  between  the  embroidered 
pomegranates  on  the  hem  are  attached  dainty  gold 
bells  that  tinkle  musically  as  he  moves.  Over  his 


ACT  II  81 

rneil  he  wears  an  ephod,  really  a  vest,  of  some  rich 
material  in  white,  crimson,  blue-purple  and  red- 
purple,  interwoven  with  gold  thread.  Onyx-stone 
buckles  clasp  the  ephod  over  each  shoulder.  Above 
the  ephod  in  front  he  wears  the  hoshen,  or  breast 
plate,  a  square  pocket  or  pouch  of  the  same  material 
and  colors  as  in  the  ephod.  This  is  held  in  place 
by  two  delicate  gold  chains  depending  from  gold 
rosettes  under  the  onyx  buckles  on  the  shoulders  and 
attached  to  gold  rings  in  the  upper  left  and  right 
corners  of  it.  The  lower  corners  are  also  attached 
to  the  ephod,  but  directly.  Twelve  stones  in  four 
horizontal  rows  of  three  each  are  gold-set  on  the 
breastplate,  namely,  red  jasper,  yellow  serpentine, 
white  quartz,  red  garnet,  blue  lapis  lazuli,  green 
jasper,  yellow  agate,  red  carnelian,  purple  amethyst, 
yellow  jasper,  green  felspar,  and  white-and-black 
onyx,  and  one  surmises,  although  one  cannot  read 
at  the  distance,  that  the  names  of  the  Twelve  Tribes 
of  Israel  are  engraved  on  these  stones.  On  a  gold 
plate,  attached  to  the  turban  and  depending  over 
the  forehead,  are  engraved  the  following  letters, 


Amraphel  is  a  stocky,  broad-shouldered  soldier 
with  quick  decisive  ways  and  a  booming  voice.  He 
is  dressed  like  the  other  Guards,  except  that  the 
material  is  richer,  the  turban  more  ornate  and  he 
carries  at  his  side  a  longer  sword,  but  no  spear. 

ANNAS.     Now,  son! 

CAIAPHAS.     You,  father;  please? 

ANNAS.     You  are  highpriest. 

CAIAPHAS.     By   Rome's   appointment;    but   you 


82      MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

by  the  law  of  the  Most  High.     Command  and  we 
obey. 

ANNAS.  Good;  it  is  the  hour  of  Heaven.  Am- 
raphel  ? 

AMRAPHEL.     At  your  service,  holy  father. 

ANNAS.  We  must  prevent  an  uprising  at  all 
costs.  Call  out  the  guards;  double  the  number  at 
each  outer  gate,  with  orders  to  close  in  case  of  riot; 
throw  a  double  line  of  defense  about  the  Temple 
below  the  terrace;  patrol  the  terrace;  and  hold  the 
rest  in  reserve  in  the  Court  of  Israel. 

AMRAPHEL  (salutes).  It  is  done.  I  go.  (He 
draws  his  sword  with  a  flourish  as  he  turns  to  the 
Guards  and  shoots  it  back  in  its  scabbard  as  he  gives 
the  order.)  Into  the  court  below.  Forward! 
March! 

The  Guards  march  out  on  the  terrace  and  go 
down  the  steps  into  the  Court  of  the  Gentiles, 
Amraphel  accompanying  them.  The  First  Guard 
salutes  as  he  passes.  The  tramp  of  the  Guards  is 
heard  dying  away  in  the  distance  during  the  follow 
ing. 

FOURTH  WOMAN.  See,  Mattithiah  is  to  sprinkle 
the  altar  this  time. 

FIFTH  WOMAN  (laughs).  Ha,  clumsy  beast! 
He  has  spilled  most  of  the  blood  on  himself. 

The   Women  laugh. 

AMRAPHEL  (off  stage,  booms).    Left,  wheel! 

The  tramp  of  the  Guards  dies  away. 

ANNAS.     Guard ! 

FIRST  GUARD  (salutes).     Your  servant,  holy  fa- 


ACT  II  83 

then 

ANNAS.     Is  the  Galilean  armed? 

FIRST  GUARD.  I  think  not,  sir.  A  guard  from 
the  East  Gate  says  he  is  riding  here  on  an  ass,  and 
his  Galileans  are  throwing  their  capes  on  the  road 
for  him  to  pass  over.  Some  are  stripping  the  trees 
of  branches  and  waving  them  before  him  with 
shouts  of  'Hosanna'. 

CAIAPHAS.     And  I  hear  they  call  him  king? 

The  tramp  of  the  Guards  sounds  again  as  if 
they  are  taking  their  places  below  the  terrace  in 
the  Court  of  the  Gentiles. 

FIRST  GUARD.  Truly,  sir;  they  call  him  'son  of 
David'. 

ANNAS.     Son  of  David? 

AMRAPHEL  (off  stage,  booms).    Halt! 

The  tramping  ceases.  The  shouting  Voices  are 
once  again  heard,  still  at  some  distance,  but  more 
distinctly  than  before. 

VOICES  (off  stage).  David —  Hosanna —  Son  of 
David —  in  the  highest —  Hail! 

ANNAS.     It  is  blasphemy! 

Amraphel  comes  up  the  terrace  steps  and  salutes, 
and  at  the  same  time  Guards  enter  along  the  ter 
race  and  patrol. 

AMRAPHEL.     Holy  father? 

ANNAS.     Speak ! 

AMRAPHEL.  Your  commands  are  executed.  Fur 
ther,  Captain  yEmilianus  has  sent  word  to  admit 
none  bearing  arms  on  pain  of  Rome's  displeasure  and 
action.  I  have  so  ordered  the  guards  at  the  gates. 


84      MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

Is  it  well? 

ANNAS.     It  is  well.    You  may  go. 

AMRAPHEL  (salutes).    Your  servant,  sir. 

He  goes  out  at  the  right  in  front  of  the  columns. 

CAIAPHAS.     I  must  to  the  sacrifice  now. 

ANNAS.  Go,  son,  and  pray  for  Israel's  redemp 
tion  this  day. 

The  High  priest  goes  out  at  the  right  in  front  of 
the  columns,  his  gold  bells  tinkling  musically.  Oc 
casionally  the  faint  tinkle  of  these  bells  sounds  dur 
ing  the  following  to  the  end  of  the  sacrifice.  Annas 
stands  in  the  gateway  and  looks  meditatively  into 
the  Court  of  the  Gentiles.  The  two  Levites  take 
up  their  money  from  the  tables,  put  it  in  their 
money-bags  and  go  out  down  the  terrace  steps.  At 
the  same  time  a  Woman  or  two  come  forward  in 
the  gallery  and  join  in  conversation  with  the  rest 
who  are  watching  the  sacrifice. 

SIXTH  WOMAN.  How  deftly  he  strips  off  the 
skin !  Like  a  coat,  eh  ? 

SECOND  WOMAN.  Josadek's  had  practice;  see 
how  easily  he  guts  and  cuts  it  to  pieces.  Ten  parts 
and  six  priests  to  carry  them! 

Ruth  enters  along  the  terrace  from  the  right  and 
comes  to  the  gateway.  One  notes  again  with  de 
lighted  surprise  the  subtile  hauteur  of  manner  that 
ever  and  anon  melts  into  pure  womanliness, 
and  appreciates  the  rare  distinction  with  which  her 
dress  inevitably  suggests  her  high  social  position. 
This  time  she  is  clothed  in  a  pure  mother-of-pearl 
silk  kethoneth  that  is  closed  and  betrays  the  grace 
ful  lines  of  her  person.  Over  her  busts  a  fine  silk 


ACT  II  85 

braid — or  is  it  an  embroidery? — forms  a  double 
loop  and  passes  in  a  graceful  diagonal  curve  down 
each  side,  presumably  meeting  and  crossing  behind 
at  the  waistline.  From  this  point  it  slopes  down 
forward  over  the  hips,  meeting  in  front  in  a  loop, 
crossing  and  so  sloping  away  on  each  side  to  the  hem 
of  the  kethoneth.  Her  white  kethoneth  alone  does 
not  suggest  her  priestly  connection,  especially  since 
the  women  of  priestly  descent  have  no  priestly  du 
ties  or  prerogatives.  But  one  is  instantly  impressed 
with  her  daring  on  discovering  that  the  colors  of  the 
braid  as  well  as  of  her  girdle  are  the  most  delicate 
shades  of  the  priestly  colors,  white,  crimson,  blue- 
purple  and  red-purple.  But  apparently  not  content 
with  this  suggestive  approximation  to  the  priestly 
vestments,  her  open,  sleeved  and  flowing  meil  is 
a  mother-of-pearl  silk,  shot  with  a  faint  tinge  of 
blue  and  lined  with  a  circling  gold  thread  meander 
in  its  hem,  as  if  she  desired  to  indicate  her  connec 
tion  with  the  highpriestly  family.  A  silk  scarf  is 
held  in  place  at  her  throat  by  a  pearl  brooch,  pearl 
pendants  depend. from  her  ears,  a  pearl  cluster  decks 
her  hair,  and  a  dainty  silk  shawl  covers  her  left  arm 
and  shoulder  and  passes  over  her  head,  a  loose  end 
hanging  over  the  right  shoulder  and  forming  a  veil 
which  she  may  draw  across  her  face  if  she  choose. 
Finally  one  may  note  the  white  silk  slippers  peeping 
out  from  under  her  kethoneth  as  she  moves. 

RUTH.     Uncle  Annas! 

He  starts  from  his  r every  and  a  smile  lights  up  his 
face,  an  indication  that  she  must  be  a  favorite  niece 
of  his. 

ANNAS.     Well,   niece,  so  you  are  come  to  the 


86      MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

Temple?     I  am  glad. 

RUTH.     Yes,  for  the  sacrifice.    I  pray  for  Israel. 

ANNAS  (looks  at  her  quizzically).  H'm-m,  some 
thing  recent,  eh,  girlie? 

She  laughs  and  both  enter  the  portico.  In  the 
meantime  Abigail,  who  has  already  entered  along 
the  terrace  from  the  right  as  if  in  pursuit  of  her  mis 
tress,  stops  on  the  terrace  to  chat  with  a  Guard  who 
happens  to  be  passing. 

ANNAS.  But  I  have  news  for  you.  Jeshua  has 
put  himself  in  our  power  this  time. 

RUTH.     What?  this  madness  outside? 

ANNAS.  Precisely.  We  must  put  him  out  of 
the  way,  lest  Rome  put  this  riot  to  our  charge. 

RUTH.  No  fear;  ^milianus  knows  and  is  ready 
to  arrest  him,  if  necessary. 

Confused  shouts  arise  again  in  the  distance. 

ANNAS.  You  remind  me,  Ruth.  Were  it  not 
better  to  see  less  of  this  captain?  Rumor  links  his 
name  with  yours  unpleasantly. 

RUTH.  What  if  people  talk?  You  yourself 
have  said  we  must  hold  Rome  friends  until  they  give 
us  back  the  kingdom. 

ANNAS.  Nevertheless —  At  least,  be  careful. 
Already  the  people  begin  to  suspect  we  are  too 
friendly  to  Rome.  Don't  irritate  them  too  much. 
After  all,  he  is  a  heathen.  Of  course,  it  is  not  true 
that  you  have  broken  bread  with  him  ? 

RUTH.  So  people  are  saying  that,  too?  But 
you  wished  to  ask  me  something. 

ANNAS.     Yes,   the  disciple  you  mentioned   last 


ACT  II  87 

night — 

RUTH.  Stands  ready  to  hand  over  his  Master 
quietly  some  night,  when  the  people  are  away. 

ANNAS.     He  will  come  to  us? 

RUTH.  We  may  see  him  any  moment  here.  In 
fact,  Jeshua  and  his  crowd  must  be  entering  the 
lower  court  already,  from  the  sounds.  Let  us  watch. 

For  confused  noises  have  arisen,  suggestive  of  a 
multitude  entering  the  Court  of  the  Gentiles.  Both 
step  out  on  the  terrace  and  look  down  into  the  lower 
Court.  Abigail  indicates  them  significantly  and  the 
Guard  with  whom  she  has  been  chatting  continues 
his  patrol.  She  laughs  and  descends  the  terrace  steps 
into  the  lower  Court.  Annas  motions  the  First 
Guard  to  patrol  the  portico  and  Court  of  the 
Women.  The  latter  enters  the  portico,  goes  out  at 
the  right  in  front  of  the  columns  and  occasionally 
re  enters,  crosses  and  goes  out.  In  the  meantime 
some  Women  in  the  gallery  continue  to  mark  the 
progress  of  the  sacrifice. 

FIRST  WOMAN.  Yes,  that's  Mordecai  washing 
the  pieces. 

THIRD  WOMAN.  What  clumsy  big  platters  those 
marble  slabs  are !  You  know,  they  say  no  woman  has 
ever  touched  them.  Do  you  think  fire  would  come 
out  of  them,  if  a  woman  should  ever — 

No  one  will  ever  know  what  more  she  said  or 
would  have  said;  for  at  this  moment  the  heavy 
tramping  of  many  feet  attracts  the  attention  and 
makes  one  wonder  how  many  are  entering  the  East 
Gate  into  the  Court  of  the  Gentiles.  All  the  Women 
who  are  still  in  the  gallery  now  look  out  at  the  upper 


88      MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

opening,  watching  the  occurrences  in  the  Court  of 
the  Gentiles. 

VOICES  (off  stage).  Make  way  for  him  that 
comes  in  the  name  of  the  Lord !  Make  way !  Make 
way! 

ANNAS.    It  is  your  honor,  blasphemer.    But  wait ! 

RUTH  (puts  hands  to  breast  convulsively).  Jeshua 
enters,  and  they  receive  him  as  king!  But  he  cannot 
be  king,  uncle,  can  he?  Say  he  cannot! 

ANNAS.  No,  child ;  kings  don't  ride  asses,  only 
peddlers — and  prophets!  He  lets  them  spread  their 
capes  and  shawls  for  the  ass  to  walk  over!  That 
is  too  much ! 

VOICES  (off  stage).  Hosanna  to  the  son  of  David! 
Blessed  is  he  that  comes  in  the  name  of  the  Lord! 
Blessed  is  the  kingdom  that  comes,  (a  tremendous 
shout)  the  kingdom  of  our  father  David!  Hosanna 
in  the  highest! 

The  restless  tramp  of  feet  and  the  confused  mur 
murs  gradually  die  down. 

RUTH.  He  motions  for  silence.  He  dismounts. 
He  looks  around.  Ah,  he  mustn't  see  me! 

She  starts  back  as  if  to  escape  notice  from  below, 
when  a  child  cries  somewhere  in  the  lower  Court, 
and  the  woman  in  Ruth  leads  her  to  look  again  into 
the  Court  of  the  Gentiles. 

RUTH.  He  is  picking  up  the  child  and  dusting 
it  off.  How  it  reaches  out  to  him! 

The  gurgling  coo  of  a  child  rises  from  the  Court. 

ANNAS  (grimly).  Gentle  and  lowly.  Can  it 
be?  But  no,  that  were  blasphemy  greater  than  all. 


ACT  II  89 

RUTH.     What,  uncle? 

VOICES  (off  stage).     Son  of  David,  deliver  us! 

ANNAS.  He  makes  no  denial,  and  he  came  in 
riding  an  ass. 

RUTH.     Yes,  yes? 

ANNAS.  It  is  clear  he  intends  blasphemy;  for  he 
is  acting  out  Zechariah's  prophecy : 

'Rejoice   greatly,   daughter  of   Zion ; 
Shout,  daughter  of  Jerusalem! 
Behold,  thy  king  cometh  unto  thee, 
Lowly  and  riding  upon  an  ass.' 

This  prophecy  has  the  Messiah  in  view,  and  Jeshua 
blasphemously  pretends  to  be  its  fulfilment,  accursed 
fool! 

RUTH  (perturbed).  No,  not  the  Messiah!  At 
least  not  that! 

VOICES  (off  stage).    Hail,  son  of  David! 

ANOTHER  VOICE  (off  stage).  Sir,  this  is  not 
seemly.  Rebuke  your  disciples. 

JESHUA  (off  stage).  Woe  to  you,  scribes  and 
Pharisees,  hypocrites,  for  shutting  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  from  men!  You  do  not  enter  yourselves, 
nor  yet  do  you  let  them  enter  who  would.  Your 
judgment  shall  be  but  the  greater. 

ANNAS.     Accursed  blasphemer! 

JESHUA  (off  stage).  And  woe  to  you  who  traf 
fic  in  cattle  and  coin  in  my  Father's  house  that 
you  may  make  the  greater  gain !  Is  it  not  written, 
'My  house  shall  be  called  the  house  of  prayer  for  all 
nations?'  Yet  you  have  turned  it  into  a  den  of 
robbers!  Out,  therefore,  that  a  greater  judgment 


90      MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

fall  not  upon  you! 

ANNAS  (starts  in  anger).    My  market! 

VOICES  (off  stage).  The  son  of  David  speaks! 
Out  you  go,  robbers!  Hosanna! 

OTHER  VOICES  (off  stage).  No,  not  us!  We 
are  here  by  priestly  warrant — ouch — oh — oh !  ( The 
tramp  and  snorting  of  cattle  are  heard.)  Oh,  my 
oxen,  my  oxen !  Stop  'em !  Head  'em  off !  Oh ! 
(The  bleating  of  sheep  is  heard.)  Oh,  my  lambs, 
my  lambs!  Have  mercy,  David!  (The  whirr  of 
pigeons  is  heard.)  Oh,  there  go  my  doves!  They 
are  flown!  My  doves!  Woe's  me —  Dare  touch 
my  money — (The  clatter  of  overturned  tables  and 
scattering  coins  is  heard.)  Father  Abraham,  I  am 
ruined!  Out,  beggar!  Ouch!  I  am  killed —  Not 
one  shekel,  not  one  left!  Woe!  woe!  The  curse 
of  the  Most  High — 

VOICES  (off  stage).  Hosanna!  Blessed  is  the 
kingdom  that  comes,  the  kingdom  of  our  father 
David !  Hosanna ! 

During  the  confusion  Amraphel  enters  the  portico 
from  the  left  in  front  of  the  columns  and  calls. 

AMRAPHEL.     Holy  father? 

Annas  turns  at  his  voice,  reenters  the  portico  and 
approaches  him. 

ANNAS.     Speak,   Amraphel. 

AMRAPHEL.  Shall  we  drive  out  this  madman 
and  his  Galileans? 

ANNAS.  God's  curse  blight  him!  But  we  can 
not  now,  the  people  are  too  strong. 

VOICES  (off  stage).     Son  of  David,  deliver  us! 


ACT  II  91 

ANNAS.     You  hear?     We  dare  not  yet. 

AMRAPHEL.  You  pardon,  sir;  but  they  are  un 
armed.  Give  the  word,  and  we  will  drive  them  out. 

ANNAS.  Nay,  the  people  are  with  him  today. 
Join  your  reserves  in  the  Court  of  Israel. 

AMRAPHEL  (salutes).  Your  servant,  holy  father. 

He  goes  out  the  way  he  entered.  At  the  same 
time  the  two  Levites  come  in  frantically  on  the  run 
up  the  terrace  steps  and  holding  up  their  Jkethoneths 
dash  to  their  tables. 

SECOND  LEVITE.  Quick,  he  comes!  My  shekels 
before  he  comes! 

FIRST  LEVITE.     He  is  mad,  surely.    Let  us  hide ! 

Each  hurriedly  takes  his  money-horn  from  its 
brackets,  runs  to  his  respective  room  under  the  gal 
lery  stairs,  the  money  clattering  noisily  in  the  horn, 
and  goes  out,  shutting  the  door  with  a  slam  and  the 
sharp  clang  of  a  bolt  shot  to  immediately  afterwards. 
At  the  same  time  Judas,  dressed  as  before,  comes  up 
the  terrace  steps,  looks  anxiously  into  the  Court  of 
the  Gentiles  and  then  approaches  Ruth. 

JUDAS.  I  saw  you  here.  Just  a  word  before  he 
comes  up. 

She  leads  him  into  the  portico. 

RUTH.     In  here,  then.    What  is  it? 

JUDAS.  He  declares  himself  the  Messiah,  but 
will  not  take  up  arms.  Now  is  the  time. 

Annas    approaches    them. 

RUTH.  Yes,  now.  Judas,  this  is  Uncle  Annas. 
He  understands;  he  will — 


92      MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

ANNAS.  Your  house  and  line  are  known  to  me, 
Prince,  the  noblest  in  Judah.  They  were  ever  loyal 
to  Israel's  Temple  and  Lord  since  the  day  great 
David  first  freed  Israel  from  the  terror  of  Goliath. 
It  is  meet,  therefore,  that  you  should  come  to  us  in 
this  emergency  to  maintain  Israel's  honor  and  glory 
against  the  machinations  of  this  mad  blasphemer  of 
Galilee.  I  welcome  you  as  our  present  deliverer; 
and  for  this  deliverance  you  shall  hereafter  receive 
fitting  recognition.  No  words  now ;  it  is  enough 
you  shall  see  me  tonight  at  my  house. 

JUDAS.  Expect  me,  holy  father.  That  I  may 
succor  Israel  shall  be  my  joy. 

ANNAS.     It  is  well.     Tonight,  then. 

Judas  hurriedly  returns  to  the  Court  of  the  Gen 
tiles.  Men  and  Women  begin  to  fill  the  portico  and 
gallery  again,  coming  up  from  the  lower  Court. 
Among  these  is  Abigail. 

ANNAS.  The  multitude  becomes  quiet.  What 
may  it  portend  ?  ( The  faint  tinkling  of  bells  sounds 
in  the  distance.}  So,  Caiaphas  begins  the  sacrifice. 

He  goes  out  at  the  right  in  front  of  the  portico 
columns.  One  now  perceives  at  frequent  intervals, 
in  fact  until  the  Chant,  the  sharp  jerky  tinkling  of 
the  Highpriest's  bells,  each  jerky  tinkle  being  fol 
lowed  by  a  sharp  sizzling  noise  as  of  fresh  flesh  burn 
ing.  Just  now  one  hears  for  the  first  time  this  tinkle 
of  bells  followed  by  a  sound  of  sizzling. 

ABIGAIL.  Mistress,  the  sacrifice  burns.  Shall 
you  go  up  to  the  gallery?  (The  tinkle  and  sizzling 
are  heard  again.)  We'll  miss  it  if  we  don't  hurry. 

Ruth  turns  as  if  to  look  once  again  into  the  Court 


ACT  II  93 

of  the  Gentiles,  then  ascends  to  the  gallery  by  the 
stairs  at  the  right,  goes  to  the  front  of  the  gallery 
and  leans  meditatively  on  the  balustrade.  Her  maid 
follows  her  into  the  gallery  and  joins  several  Women 
in  the  bow  who  are  watching  the  sacrifice.  The 
First  Guard  resumes  his  post  at  the  gateway  and 
then  joins  in  the  patrol  of  the  terrace.  In  the  mean 
time  the  Women  converse. 

SECOND  WOMAN.  It's  a  wonder  Caiaphas 
doesn't  lose  his  turban!  See  how  he  shakes! 

The  tinkle  and  sizzling  are  heard  again. 

THIRD  WOMAN.     Oh,  he's  in  a  hurry. 

The  tinkle  and  sizzling  are  heard  again  several 
times  in  rapid  succession. 

SECOND  WOMAN.  Faugh!  Do  you  smell  it? 
Ugh! 

ABIGAIL.  Ho  ho,  Miriam !  Watching  the  sacri 
fice? 

The  tinkle  and  sizzling  are  heard  again,  as  the 
Women  turn  at  her  voice,  and  some  look  over  at 
Ruth  significantly.  While  the  Second  Woman 
speaks  again  the  tinkle  and  sizzling  are  heard  for 
the  last  time. 

SECOND  WOMAN.  Well,  Abigail,  just  in  time; 
there  goes  the  last  piece  of  the  sacrifice  into  the 
fire. 

ABIGAIL.  And  Maaseiah  raises  his  silver  trump 
et,  sh-sh! 

A  blare  of  trumpets  is  heard  in  the  near  distance. 
At  the  sound  some  of  the  worshipers  simply  bow 
the  head,  but  the  majority  prostrate  themselves  to 
ward  the  front.  The  tinkling  of  the  bells  dies  away, 


94      MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

and  voices,  presumably  in  the  inner  Court  of  Israel, 
are  raised  in  chanting  the  Psalm  of  the  day  to  the 
accompaniment  of  harps. 
VOICES  (off  stage). 

'Who  shall  ascend  into  the  hill  of  the  Lord? 

And  who  shall  stand  in  his  holy  place? 

He  that  hath  clean  hands  and  a  pure  heart, 

That  hath  not  lifted  up  his  hands  unto  idols 

And  hath  not  sworn  deceitfully. 

He  shall  receive  a  blessing  from  the  Lord 

And  righteousness  from  the  God  of  his  salvation.' 

The  blare  of  trumpets  is  heard  again,  and  the 
worshipers  bow  or  prostrate  themselves  as  before. 
Then  the  Chant  is  resumed  to  the  accompaniment 
of  harps. 

VOICES  (off  stage). 

'Lift  up  your  heads,  O  ye  gates, 

And  be  ye  lifted  up,  ye  everlasting  doors, 

And  the  King  of  Glory  will  come  in. 

Who  is  this  King  of  Glory? 

The  Lord,  strong  and  mighty, 

The  Lord,  mighty  in  battle.' 

The  blare  of  trumpets  is  heard  again,  and  the 
worshipers  bow  or  prostrate  themselves  as  before. 
Then  the  Chant  is  resumed  to  the  accompaniment 
of  harps. 

VOICES  (off  stage). 

'Lift  up  your  heads,  O  ye  gates, 
Yea,   lift   them   up,  ye  everlasting  doors, 
And  the  King  of  Glory  will  come  in. 
Who  is  this  King  of  Glory? 


ACT  II  95 

The  Lord  of  hosts, 

He  is  the  King  of  Glory.' 

The  blare  of  trumpets  is  heard  again,  and  the 
worshipers  bow  or  prostrate  themselves  as  before. 
At  the  same  moment  Jeshua,  dressed  as  before, 
comes  up  the  terrace  steps  and  stands  quietly  look 
ing  in.  As  the  worshipers  rise  to  their  feet,  he  raises 
his  hands  in  blessing. 

JESHUA.    Peace! 

At  his  voice  the  worshipers  in  the  portico  turn 
toward  him  and  look  at  him  as  if  fascinated.  Ruth 
starts  and  clutches  at  her  heart. 

RUTH.     His  voice! 

During  the  ensuing  she  shows  increasing  agita 
tion,  due  to  conflicting  emotions,  perhaps  the  re 
awakening  of  an  ancient  feeling,  redoubled  hate, 
exasperation,  who  knowst  Occasionally  she  sits  and 
then  stands  or  moves  restlessly  about,  but  listening 
intently  all  the  while. 

EIGHTH  MAN.     Is  he  the  Messiah,  think  you? 

NINTH  MAN.  How  should  I —  The  rabbis  say 
the  Messiah  must  appear — so — suddenly,  in  the 
Temple  at  the  hour  of  sacrifice. 

EIGHTH  MAN.     I  am  trembling ;  let  us  go ! 

NINTH  MAN.     Sh,  he  speaks! 

JESHUA  (extends  his  arms).  Come  to  me,  all 
you  who  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give 
you  rest.  Take  my  yoke  upon  you  and  learn  of 
me — 

Annas  and  several  other  Priests  enter  the  portico 
angrily  from  the  left  in  front  of  the  columns;  but 


96      MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

the  sight  of  Jeshua  seemingly  quiets  them,  and  they 
come  to  a  stop. 

JESHUA.  — and  you  shall  find  rest  unto  your 
souls.  For  my  yoke  draws  without  chafing  my 
burden  which  is  light. 

All  feel  the  spell  of  his  words  and  his  presence. 
Then  Annas  shakes  himself  free  from  the  spell  and 
steps  toward  him  angrily. 

ANNAS.  Enough,  blasphemer!  Who  are  you 
to  assume  authority  in  the  Temple  and  break  up 
our  market  ?  Even  were  it  an  abuse  the  Law  should 
frown  upon,  say  who  has  given  you  authority  to 
suppress  it? 

JESHUA.  First,  I  ask  you  one  thing.  Answer 
me,  and  I  shall  tell  you  my  authority. 

ANNAS.  I  am  not  here  to  answer  your  ques 
tions. 

Jeshua  looks  at  him  quietly  until  he  fidgets  and 
partly  yields  to  the  spell,  an  unusual  experience  for 
him,  since  he  is  not  accustomed  to  acknowledging 
any  one  his  master.  At  last  he  speaks. 

ANNAS.  But,  perhaps,  we  may  have  some  sport. 
Your  question? 

JESHUA.  Is  this.  Jochanan's  baptism,  was  it 
of  God,  or  of  men?  Answer! 

ANNAS.     Jochanan — of  God,  or  of  men? 

As  he  hesitates,  a  Woman  carrying  a  Child  ap 
proaches  Jeshua  timidly. 

SIXTH  WOMAN.     Master? 

Annas  apparently  appreciates  the  opportunity 
created  by  this  Woman  s  interruption;  for  he  quick- 


ACT  II  97 

ly  withdraws  a  few  steps  and  confers  with  the 
Priests.  At  the  same  time  Jeshua  turns  to  the 
Woman,  smiles  and  reaches  out  his  arms.  She 
springs  toward  him  with  a  glad  cry  and  presents  the 
Child.  He  takes  it  in  his  arms,  looks  at  it  fondly, 
places  a  hand  on  its  head,  looks  upward  and  his 
lips  move  as  if  in  blessing.  He  then  gives  it  a  kiss 
and  returns  it  to  the  Woman,  who  withdraws  look 
ing  very  happy.  During  this  episode  Annas  hastily 
consults  with  the  Priests. 

ANNAS.    What  can  I  say?  Surely  not  "of  God?" 

FIFTH  PRIEST.  Not  that;  otherwise,  he  could 
charge  us  with  disobedience  to  the  Ever  Blessed 
One,  and  so  still  further  weaken  our  hold  on  the 
people. 

SIXTH  PRIEST.  But  neither  can  we  say  "of 
men,"  since  the  people  have  believed  in  Jochanan 
as  a  true  prophet. 

ANNAS.  And  we  dare  not  face  their  angry  pro 
tests  now. 

SEVENTH  PRIEST.  A  most  ticklish  question! 
We  are  in  his  hands. 

Men  and  Women  continue  to  press  in  from  the 
terrace  and  so  force  Jeshua  into  the  portico.  Most 
of  the  occupants  of  the  gallery  gradually  leave  it 
and  crowd  the  steps  at  the  left  and  right,  listening 
and  watching.  Annas  approaches  Jeshua. 

ANNAS.  Your  question  is  absurd  and  needs  no 
answer. 

JESHUA.  Neither  then  need  I  indicate  the 
source  of  my  authority. 

Several  persons  laugh  in  appreciation  of  the  re- 


98      MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

tort.  Annas  casts  an  angry  look  at  them,  but  holds 
his  ground  for  the  nonce,  refusing  to  acknowledge 
defeat.  Jeshua  continues  to  speak,  and  the  Priests 
press  around  Annas  as  if  to  sustain  him. 

JESHUA.  But  what  do  you  say  to  this?  One 
day  a  vintner  came  to  his  elder  son  and  said:  "Son, 
go  work  today  in  the  vineyard."  His  son  answer 
ed:  "I  will  not."  Yet  later  he  thought  better  of 
it  and  went.  The  vintner  also  said  the  same  to  his 
younger  son.  Now  this  one  answered:  "I  go,  sir." 
But  he  did  not  go.  Which  of  these  two  did  his 
father's  will? 

PRIESTS.     The  elder,  of  course. 

ANNAS  (angrily).    Silence,  fools! 

PEOPLE  (on  terrace).  {Hail,  son  of  David!    De- 

VOICES  (off  stage),      jclare  yourself! 

Jeshua  quiets  them  with  a  motion,  and  then  ad 
dresses  the  Priests  with  rising  indignation. 

JESHUA.  So  I  say  to  you  that  these,  yes,  pub 
licans  and  harlots  too,  are  entering  the  kingdom  of 
God  before  you!  For  Jochanan  came  to  you  in  the 
way  of  righteousness,  and  you  did  not  believe  him. 
But  the  publicans  and  harlots  believed  in  him,  while 
you,  although  you  saw  it,  refused  to  think  better 
of  it  afterwards  and  believe  in  him.  Therefore 
the  kingdom  of  God  shall  be  taken  from  you  and 
given  to  these! 

Annas  is  about  to  make  some  angry  retort  when 
Zeruel  dashes  up  the  terrace  steps  and  bursts  through 
the  crowd.  He  is  a  little  old  man,  clothed  in  a 
parti-colored  kethoneth,  which  he  clutches  convul 
sively  and  tears  to  shreds  in  a  most  pitiable  frenzy. 


ACT  II  99 

ZERUEL.  My  God!  my  God!  Let  me  through 
to  the  altar!  Out  of  my  way!  I  come  to  vow 
vengeance — my  God,  let  me  pass! — on  the  Roman 
who  has  brought  dishonor  to  my  house!  Oh,  my 
God! 

He  has  pressed  through  the  crowd  into  the  pres 
ence  of  Jeshua,  who  steps  in  front  of  him  to  stop 
him,  and  a  struggle  ensues,  frantic  on  the  one  side, 
quiet  and  firm  on  the  other. 

JESHUA.     Stand,  Zeruel! 

ZERUEL.     Let   me  pass,   man! 

JESHUA.     Zeruel! 

ZERUEL.    You,  Master? 

JESHUA.     It  is  I,  Zeruel. 

Zeruel  gives  up  the  struggle,  and  in  an  agony 
of  despair  beats  his  head,  sobbing,  with  tears  stream 
ing  down  his  cheeks. 

ZERUEL.  Master,  she  was  such  an  innocent 
child,  the  pride  (choking)  of  her  father's  heart,  oh 
my  God!  Let  me —  Oh,  my  soiled  Tamar!  I  will 
avenge —  Master,  I  must  place  my  vow  on  the 
altar. 

He  produces  a  money-bag  from  his  girdle. 

JESHUA.  Not  so,  friend.  I  know  and  sorrow  at 
the  great  injury  Cyprianus  has  done  your  daughter. 
But  while  anger  burns  in  your  heart,  the  Father  can 
not  hear  your  prayer.  No,  Zeruel;  leave  your  gift 
behind — 

During  his  words  Zeruel  looks  at  him,  calms 
down,  hesitates  as  if  struggling  ^vith  himself  and 
then  with  a  sob  drops  the  bag. 


ioo    MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

ZERUEL.     My  daughter! 

JESHUA.  You  have  done  well.  Now  go,  seek 
out  him  whom  you  call  your  enemy,  and  forgive 
him. 

ZERUEL  (fiercely).  Forgive  Cyprianus?  Never! 
Let  me  go! 

He  struggles  to  break  away  from  Jeshua's  grasp, 
reaching  at  the  same  time  for  his  money-bag  on  the 
pavement;  but  the  latter  s  hold  is  too  firm,  and 
slowly  Zeruel  is  forced  to  face  him. 

JESHUA.  Anger  has  no  place  in  the  Father's 
kingdom.  Go,  forgive  him  first;  then  come,  and  at 
the  altar  pray  the  Father  to  forgive  you  this  anger. 
For  if  you  do  not  forgive  another,  how  can  the 
Father  forgive  you? 

Zeruel  looks  at  him,  then  at  the  money-bag,  and 
groans  bitterly. 

ZERUEL.  Master,  it  is  a  hard  saying;  who  can 
bear  it?  My  daughter! 

He  chokes,  then  with  a  gesture  of  utter  despair 
breaks  away  and  sobbingly  goes  out  across  the  ter 
race  and  down  the  terrace  steps.  Jeshua  watches 
him  with  deep  sorrow,  and  sighs.  Several  mutter 
and  whisper  among  themselves,  as  a  Pharisee  ap 
proaches  Jeshua  with  mock  respect. 

SECOND  PHARISEE.  Rabbi,  we  know  you  arc 
honest,  that  you  yield  to  no  man,  that  without 
regard  to  any  person  you  teach  us  the  way  of  God. 
Pray,  teach  us  more!  Ought  we  to  pay  Caesar's 
tribute,  or  not? 

FIFTH  PRIEST  (gleefully).  For  or  against  Rome, 
eh  ?  Either  way  he's  caught,  ha ! 


ACT  H  jo: 

THIRD  PHARISEE.  Yes,  shall  we  give,  or  not 
give? 

JESHUA.     So?     Bring  me  a  denar. 

SECOND  PHARISEE  (gives  him  a  coin).  Here  is 
one. 

JESHUA  (takes  it).  First,  whose  stamp  and  title 
has  this  denar  of  yours  on  it? 

SECOND  PHARISEE.  Eh — eh — eh,  Caesar's,  of 
course;  but — 

JESHUA  (gives  back  coin).  Then  give  to  Caesar 
what  is  Caesar's, — and  to  God  what  is  God's! 

SEVERAL  (laugh).  Ho,  well  said,  Master!  Ha 
ha!  Now,  Pharisee —  That's  right,  slink  away! 
Ha,  ha!  Son  of  David,  declare  yourself!  Hail! 

VOICES  (off  stage).  Hosanna!  Kingdom  of  our 
father  David —  Down  with  Rome!  The  Messiah 
and  his  sword!  Hail! 

Abigail  returns  to  the  gallery  in  search  of  her 
mistress,  and  several  Women  follow.  At  the  same 
time  Annas  speaks  to  those  about  him. 

ANNAS.  Come  away;  no  more  questions.  Be 
elzebub  rights  for  him  today.  But,  false  prophet 
and  blasphemer,  we  shall  meet  again,  when  your 
deluded  Galileans  that  now  shout  for  you  will  shout 
against  you.  Then  show  us  how  brave  you  are, 
'son  of  David'!  Till  then— 

JESHUA  (raises  hands).     Peace! 

Annas  starts  to  speak,  apparently  thinks  better  of 
it,  and  goes  out  muttering  with  the  Priests  at  the 
right  in  front  of  the  columns.  At  the  same  time 
Ruth  exclaims  bitterly. 


MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

RUTH.     Peace?     Ah  God! 

The  night  begins  to  jail,  the  sunset  counter-glow 
is  seen  in  the  eastern  sky  over  distant  Olivet,  and 
the  moon,  now  nearly  full,  rises  over  the  mountain. 
Shortly  the  patrolling  Guards  appear  and  pass  on 
the  terrace  with  torches,  and  the  distant  Roman  Sen 
tries  on  the  outer  wall  carry  lanterns.  Also  the 
worshipers  slowly  withdraw  from  the  gallery  and 
portico  and  go  out,  only  a  few  of  them  staying  for 
the  Benediction. 

ABIGAIL.     Come,  mistress;  it  is  almost  night. 

RUTH.     Go,  Abigail ;  I  must  wait  till  he  goes. 

Abigail  looks  at  her  wonderingly  and  then  goes 
down  and  out  through  the  portico  and  along  the 
terrace.  At  the  same  time  the  last  two  or  three 
Women  in  the  gallery  approach  the  front  as  they 
move  to  go  out. 

THIRD  WOMAN.  What?  The  incense  already 
smokes  on  the  golden  altar! 

SECOND  WOMAN.  Sh-sh!  The  priests  come 
out  of  the  Holy  place. 

A  blare  of  trumpets  sounds  in  the  near  distance 
as  if  coming  from  the  inner  Court  of  Israel.  Such 
worshipers  as  still  remain  either  prostrate  themselves 
or  simply  bow  the  head.  At  the  same  time  Jeshua 
moves  quietly  to  the  terrace  and  looks  down  into  the 
Court  of  the  Gentiles,  while  voices  chant  the  Bene 
diction  to  the  accompaniment  of  harps. 

VOICES  (off  stage). 
'Yahweh  bless  thee  and  keep  thee; 
Yahweh  make  his  face  to  shine  upon  thee  and  be 
gracious  unto  thee; 


ACT  II  103 

Yahweh  lift  up  his  countenance  upon  thee  and  give 
thee  peace.' 

PEOPLE.     Peace  be  upon  Israel! 

The  last  of  the  worshipers  quietly  withdraw, 
each  looking  at  Jeshua  respectfully  or  curiously  in 
passing,  but  not  interrupting  his  silent  meditation. 
Ruth  also  slowly  begins  her  descent  from  the  gal 
lery. 

VOICES  (off  stage).  He  does  not  come! —  Will 
we  find  him  tomorrow? —  Why  does  he  not  declare 
himself? —  There  he  is!  Hail,  son  of  David! — 
Hush !  he  is  praying. —  Come,  let  us  go. 

The  Voices  die  away  in  indistinct  murmurs  and 
for  a  brief  while  silence  reigns.  Then  Jeshua,  ap 
parently  under  great  emotional  stress,  speaks. 

JESHUA.  Jerusalem,  Jerusalem,  that  kills  the 
prophets  and  stones  them  that  are  sent  to  her,  how 
often  would  I  have  gathered  your  children  together, 
as  a  hen  gathers  her  brood  under  her  wings! — and 
they  would  not  come!  Behold,  your  house  is  left 
to  you  desolate. 

With  a  groan  he  rouses  himself  from  his  medita 
tion,  turns  for  a  last  look  into  the  Temple  before 
going,  and  is  startled  to  discover  Ruth  in  the  portico. 
She  is  no  less  shaken  at  the  unexpected  sight  of  him, 
and  stands  uncertainly,  in  a  struggle  between  pride 
and  desire  to  speak  with  him.  Silently  they  look 
at  each  other;  then  Jeshua  bows  his  head  and  sor 
rowfully  turns  as  if  to  go  out  down  the  terrace 
steps.  Ruth  realizes  that  if  she  is  to  speak  with  him, 
she  must  make  the  advance,  and  in  this  realization 
her  pride  melts  and  all  her  ancient  feeling  for  him 


104    MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

springs  to  life  in  the  one  word  that  softly  and  for 
lornly  bursts  from  her  lips. 

RUTH.     Jeshua! 

He  turns  toward  her  reluctantly. 

JESHUA.     So  you  were  here,  too,  Ruth? 

RUTH  (trembles  and  falters).  I — I — couldn't 
go !  I  wanted  to  see — you  once  more.  Speak  to  me, 
Jeshua? 

She  tries  to  step  to  him,  but  in  an  excess  of  weak 
ness  almost  falls,  and  he  runs  to  her  and  supports 
her. 

JESHUA.     Ruth,  you  are  ill! 

RUTH.  No,  not  ill;  but —  Oh,  Jeshua,  what  a 
nightmare  the  past  year  has  been! 

She  bursts  out  weeping  on  his  breast.  He  gently 
disengages  himself  and  leads  her  to  the  bench  under 
the  right  window,  where  both  sit,  she  retaining  hold 
of  his  hand.  During  this  he  has  been  speaking. 

JESHUA.  There;  there,  now!  Take  it  gently, 
Ruth.  Ah,  that's  better.  There,  now!  So  it  has 
not  been  a  happy  year  for  you? 

RUTH  (laughs  bitterly).  As  though  after  that 
night  I  could  ever  be  happy  again! 

JESHUA.  That  night.  Yet  it  was  a  merry  life, 
yours  this  year,  I  hear. 

RUTH.  Oh  yes,  merry,  ha !  (Anxiously.)  What 
have  you  heard? 

JESHUA.  Always  guests  and  dinners  and  enter 
tainments.  Yet  you  did  not  forget? 

RUTH  (looks  relieved).    I  could  not  forget. 
JESHUA.     The  people  call  you  happy. 


ACT  II  105 

RUTH.     How  could  I  be  happy? 

JESHUA.     Then  why  all  that  gaiety? 

RUTH.  I  wanted  to  forget.  I  thought,  perhaps 
— you  would  be  sorry  you  had  lost  me,  and  then 
you  would  be  unhappy,  too,  and —  Oh,  I  hated 
you! 

JESHUA.     My  child! 

For  a  while  neither  speaks. 

RUTH.     Jeshua? 

JESHUA.     Yes,  Ruth. 

RUTH.     Is  it  too  late  yet? 

JESHUA.     Why  ask? 

RUTH  (vehemently).  But  I  do  ask!  You  were 
always  so  stubborn ;  but  tonight  let  us  talk  sensibly. 

JESHUA.     Sensibly? 

RUTH.  Yes,  sensibly;  you  know  what  I  mean. 
At  last  I  have  you  this  once  alone,  and,  and  I  must 
talk  plainly.  Be  reasonable  just  this  once.  Please? 

She  smiles  at  him  as  she  speaks,  and  an  answering 
smile  lights  up  his  face. 

JESHUA.     You  may  speak. 

RUTH  (claps  her  hands).  He  smiles!  A  sign, 
a  sign ! 

JESHUA.  The  same  irrepressible  girl  of  Naza 
reth  !  You  have  not  changed  so  much. 

RUTH  (seriously).  Yes  and  no.  Outwardly,  no; 
but  here,  (placing  her  hand  over  her  heart  f  con 
vulsively)  here —  Jeshua,  did  your  heart  ever  ache 
to  breaking? 

JESHUA  (abstracted).     Jerusalem — my  people — 


106    MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

sheep  without  a  shepherd — and  they  would  not 
come!  (Collected.)  I  think  so. 

RUTH.  Oh,  I  don't  mean  that  sort  of  heart 
ache  ;  I  am  speaking  of  a  harder  ache  than  that. 

JESHUA.     Harder? 

RUTH.  Oh,  much!  Here,  give  me  your  hand. 
(She  takes  his  hand  in  both  of  hers  and  presses  it 
close  to  her  breast.)  There;  don't  you  feel  it  start 
and  quiver  like  some  poor  wild  thing  that  was  made 
just  to  be  happy,  but  is  wounded  to  death?  Oh, 
oh!  it  hurts,  it  hurts,  Jeshua!  (He  withdraws  his 
hand.)  That  has  changed  me.  How  could  you  do 
it,  Jeshua?  How  could  you?  How  long  ago  it 
seems  now!  Yet  not  three  years  ago  I  came  to  Naz 
areth  so  gay,  so  carefree,  and  you  called  me  the  fair 
est  of  all  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem. 

JESHUA  (musing).     Jerusalem's  fairest  daughter. 

RUTH  (with  a  rippling  laugh).  He  remembers! 
And  I  laughed  at  you,  because  you  did  not  know  a 
dozen  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  all  told,  extravagant 
boy! 

JESHUA.  But  you  were  going  to  talk  to  me 
sensibly. 

RUTH  (pouts).  Just  like  a  man!  Always  keeps 
to  the  point!  But  if  you —  Now  listen  to  me, 
please.  (She  holds  up  her  finger  importantly.) 
To  think  that  here,  where  the  great  rabbis  teach 
their  classes,  right  here  in  the  Temple  Courts,  the 
famous  teacher  of  Galilee  sits  meekly  and  listens 
gravely  to  an  irrepressible  girl!  (She  rises  and  makes 
him  a  mock  curtsey  with  a  laugh.)  I  am  honored! 
(She  sits.)  If  you  are  a  good  boy,  I'll  promise  you 


ACT  II  107 

a  short   lesson,   else — 

She  laughs  merrily  and  he  smiles  in  return. 

JESHUA.     Will  you  never  grow  up,  Ruth? 

RUTH.  Oh,  I'm  very  grown  up.  Let  me  count. 
Seventeen  the  day  you  came  into  our  garden  with 
the  thorn  roses,  and  one,  two,  three,  not  quite  three 
years  since.  That  makes  (counting  on  her  fingers} 
eighteen,  nineteen,  twenty!  See,  I  was  a  woman 
long,  long  ago!  But  a  man —  Why,  you  are  more 
than  thirty,  and  you  are  as  innocent  as  a  boy  yet! 
So  I  am  really  'grown-up-er'  than  you,  and  am  go 
ing  to  talk  very  seriously  now. 

JESHUA  (laughs).    And  sensibly,  too? 

RUTH  (nods  her  head).  And  sensibly,  too.  But 
seriously,  Jeshua;  have  you  not  been  just  a  wee  bit 
foolish  since  you  left  Nazareth  for  that  mad  preach 
er? 

JESHUA.     Ruth! 

RUTH.  No,  please  don't  speak  yet.  My  one 
chance.  (She  presses  her  hand  to  her  heart.)  Oh! 
I  must  speak  now. 

JESHUA.     As  you  will. 

RUTH.  You  were  such  a  dreamer  those  days! 
Sometimes  I  was  angry,  very  angry,  at  you  for 
talking  so  much  of  Israel  and  Rome  and  the  Mes 
siah  and  your  hope  of  immediate  deliverance.  I 
began  to  hate  you,  not  much,  just  a  little,  because  it 
hurt  my  pride  that  you  talked  so  little  of  me. 

He  rises  and  begins  to  walk  to  and  fro.  She 
looks  at  him  anxiously.  He  turns  to  her. 

JESHUA.     You  were  always  in  my  thoughts. 


io8    MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

RUTH.  Well,  I  was  not  aware  of  it.  (Then 
she  seems  to  grasp  the  meaning  of  his  words,  and 
her  face  lights  up.)  Is  it  true?  Oh,  I  am  so 
happy!  After  all,  I  was  in  your  heart  all  those 
days!  The  hurt  is  going  now,  I  think.  (She 
presses  her  hand  to  her  breast.)  How  quietly  and 
happily  it  is  running!  (She  rises,  walks  over  to  the 
left  window,  and  looks  out  meditatively.)  How 
furious  I  used  to  get  at  times  and  vow  I  would 
never  again  see  you.  Yet  somehow  when  the  time 
came  to  return  to  Jerusalem,  I  could  not  go,  and 
stayed  on  and  on,  and  you  wondered  why  I  did  not 
go,  stupid  boy!  You  never  guessed  (softly)  that 
I — I  loved  you! 

JESHUA.     Loved  me? 

RUTH  (turns).  You  think  it  unwomanly  of  me 
to  say  so;  but  I  am  past  shame  now.  And  I  stayed 
on  day  after  day — and  you  never  said  a  word ! 

JESHUA.  So  those  were  your  thoughts  when  we 
walked  the  woods  and  hills! 

RUTH.  And  when  I  picked  almond  blossoms 
and  wreathed  them  in  your  hair,  still  you  said  noth 
ing! 

JESHUA.     My  child! 

RUTH  (in  increasing  agitation).  And  then  the 
hateful  rumors  from  Judea  made  you  restless,  and 
you  wondered  whether  it  was  the  hour  of  the  king 
dom  and  talked  of  going  to  see  Jochanan  the  Bap 
tist.  I  knew,  if  you  went,  I  should  lose  you,  and  I 
was  jealous  of  the  prophet  that  was  taking  you  away, 
jealous  of  your  dreams,  jealous  of  Israel,  yes,  and 
often  I  even, — I  even  wished  there  had  never  been 


ACT  II  109 

promised  us  a — Messiah! 

JESHUA.     Ruth! 

RUTH.  You  do  not  understand.  With  a  man 
love  is  an  incident,  a  pleasant  episode,  a  happy  in 
terlude,  a  plaything  which  he  carelessly  tosses  aside 
for  his  work,  for  a  career,  for  some  dreamy  and  im 
possible  ideal,  what  not?  But  a  woman —  Love  is 
a  fire  that  burns,  a  madness  that  possesses  us  utterly ! 
For  it  we  will  sacrifice  anything,  everything!  It  is 
our  life;  we  cannot  sacrifice  it,  else  we  die.  So,  in 
my  madness,  if  I  even  wished  no  Messiah  had  been 
promised —  What  deliverance  could  a  Messiah  bring 
me,  if  I  lost  you? 

JESHUA.     Why  talk  of  this  now? 

RUTH.  We  must.  Then  came  the  last  evening 
together.  It  was  early  spring.  You  had  come  to 
tell  your  decision. 

JESHUA.     I  found  you  under  the  sycamore. 

RUTH.  How  long  we  sat  looking  into  the  val 
ley,  till  the  yellow  moon  peeped  over  the  hill. 

//  has  grown  quite  dark  now,  only  the  moon  over 
Olivet  and  a  few  stars  giving  light.  The  Sentries 
still  patrol  the  outer  wall,  and  Temple  Guards  with 
lighted  torches  cross  on  the  terrace,  go  out  and  do 
not  appear  again  until  the  end  of  the  Act. 

JESHUA.  You  tried  to  dissuade  me  from  going, 
at  least  until  Jerusalem  had  accepted  Jochanan. 

RUTH.  And  ever  you  spoke  of  your  Call,  you 
must  go!  At  last  I  grew  angry  and  told  you  to 
choose  between  him  and  me. 

JESHUA.     My  call  or  your  friendship,  you  said. 


i  io    MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

RUTH.  I  have  never  forgotten  what  happened 
then.  I  had  risen  in  anger.  Then  you  stood  up 
and  came  to  me  without  a  word.  You  reached  out 
your  two  strong  hands  and  took  hold  of  my  shoul 
ders,  and  slowly,  so  slowly,  began  to  draw  me  to 
ward  you.  How  my  heart  throbbed,  and  how  your 
fingers  hurt,  (laughing  nervously)  and  how  happy 
I  was!  But  just  as  I  thought  you  would  draw  me 
to  your  heart,  you  let  go  and  took  my  face  in  your 
hands.  So  I  reached  up  and  put  my  hands  around 
your  neck.  And  all  the  while  your  grave  eyes 
burned  into  mine,  and  I  thought  you  could  see  that 
I — that  I  loved  you  utterly. 

JESHUA.     Loved  me! 

RUTH.    And  I  thought  you  loved  me,  too. 

JESHUA.  Your  hair  burned  in  the  light,  and 
the  wind  blew  a  strand  across  your  brow. 

They  have  gradually  moved  out  onto  the  terrace, 
where  Ruth  points  to  Olivet  bright  in  the  moon 
light. 

RUTH.  Look!  Just  such  a  night  as  this  it  was. 
Oh,  Jeshua! 

She  bursts  into  tears,  as  she  quickly  turns  to  him, 
and  forlornly  reaches  out  her  arms  to  him.  He 
tenderly  supports  her.  For  a  while  nothing  is  heard 
but  her  quiet  sobbing;  then  she  looks  up  into  his 
face  and  smiles  through  her  tears. 

RUTH.  This  is  so  foolish  of  me.  See,  I'm  not 
crying;  I — I — I  am  just  happy! 

He  reaches  up  one  hand,  presses  her  head  back 
so  as  to  look  in  her  face  and  gently  brushes  back 
the  hair  from  her  forehead. 


ACT  II  in 

RUTH.  Just  as  it  was  that  night!  Just  so  you 
brushed  back  the  loose  hair  and  bent  your  head  over 
me.  Suddenly  you  pushed  me  away  roughly,  and 
without  a  word  you  left  me!  And — and — you 
never  kissed  me!  Didn't  you  love  me? 

He  draws  away  from  her  and  looks  out  over 
Olivet  in  silence.  Then  he  turns  to  her. 

JESHUA.  I  loved  you  too  much.  The  Father 
had  laid  his  hand  on  me,  and  though  I  did  not  then 
know  all  he  required  of  me,  I  knew  my  life  must 
be  wholly  his,  free  from  all  natural  ties,  to  do  his 
will  only.  Once  I  had  put  my  hand  to  the  plow,  I 
could  not  look  back. 

RUTH.  And  have  you  been  happy  in  giving 
me  up? 

JESHUA.  No,  Ruth.  How  could  I  with  my 
people  under  their  burden  of  sorrow  and  sin?  And 
then  I  remembered  you. 

RUTH.     Me? 

JESHUA.  How  happy,  if  we  could  have  worked 
together! 

RUTH.     Together! 

JESHUA.  But  it  was  not  to  be.  You  chose  oth 
erwise,  and  then  at  Jordan  the  Father  separated  me 
to  a  service  that  could  end  only  in  death. 

RUTH  (vehemently).    No,  no,  not  death,  now! 

JESHUA.  It  was  therefore  necessary  for  me  to 
be  free.  Besides  I  thought  you  desired  to  forget. 

RUTH.  When  a  woman  loves,  she  never  forgets! 
It  is  not  too  late  yet.  (She  puts  her  arms  around  his 
neck  impulsively.)  Come,  give  up  this  mad  career! 


ii2    MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

The  people  call  you  king;  perhaps,  Messiah.  (He 
tries  to  free  himself,  but  she  clings  desperately.) 
Will  Rome  tolerate  a  kingship  ?  At  her  request,  the 
Sanhedrin  must  hand  you  over,  lest  she  destroy 
them,  too.  It  is  madness  to  persist.  Come,  let  us 
go  away  and  be  happy  together,  Jeshua?  Is  Israel 
so  worth  the  saving,  our  happiness  must  be  sacri 
ficed? 

JESHUA  (frees  himself).    Ruth,  it  cannot  be. 

RUTH.  Oh,  I  hate —  Jeshua,  my  heart,  it 
hurts!  Don't  leave  me  this  way!  Kiss  me? 

JESHUA  (kisses  her  forehead).     My  child. 

She  pulls  him  frantically  to  her. 

RUTH.     No,  my  lips,  my  lips! 

He  gently  but  firmly  puts  her  away. 

JESHUA.     No,  Ruth;  they  are  not  mine. 

RUTH.    Wh-what  do  you  mean? 

He  ?nakes  no  answer,  and  she  looks  at  him  ivith 
%fOW>ing  horror. 

RUTH.     Then,    you — you — you    know? 

JESHUA.     It  is  not  mine  to  judge. 

RUTH.     Oh — oh — oh — oh!    you    know! 

She  rushes  into  the  portico,  followed  by  him, 
and  throws  herself  in  a  paroxysm  of  weeping  on  the 
bench  on  which  they  had  both  been  sitting  but  a 
short  while  before. 

RUTH.  My  God,  he  knows!  he  knows!  Why 
did  I  ever  do  it?  Oh-h-h-h! 

JESHUA.     Ruth. 

RUTH.     Go!     How  dare  you — 


ACT  II  113 

JESHUA.     Ruth. 

RUTH.  How  dare  you  follow  me?  I  hate  you! 
I  hate  you!  (She  stands  and  stamps  her  foot.)  I 
hate  you !  Go !  You  shall  die  now ! 

She  watches  him  scornfully  as  he  slowly  and  sor 
rowfully  looks  at  her.  A  pause.  Then  he  turns 
and  goes  out  silently  through  the  gateway  and  down 
the  terrace  steps.  Slowly  she  sinks  to  the  bench 
sobbing. 

RUTH.     O  Jeshua! 

Several  Guards  with  lighted  torches  enter  along 
the  terrace  from  the  left.  Immediately  she  starts 
to  her  feet  and  composes  herself. 

FIRST  GUARD.     I  thought  I  heard  voices. 

SECOND  GUARD.  I'll  step  in  and  see.  (He 
enters  the  portico  and  confronts  her.)  Your  mercy, 
mistress;  it  is  past  the  hour  of  closing. 

RUTH.     Is  Chiefpriest  Annas  still  here? 

SECOND  GUARD.     The  Sanhedrin  consults. 

RUTH.     Tell  him  to  expect  me  this  evening. 

SECOND  GUARD.     Very  well,  mistress. 

Ruth  goes  out  through  the  gateway  and  down  the 
terrace  steps.  The  Second  Guard  rejoins  the  others 
on  the  terrace.  They  wait  respectfully  until  she  is 
gone.  Then  they  divide  quickly  into  two  squads 
and  push  the  gates  shut.  At  the  same  time  they  talk. 

FIRST  GUARD.  Now,  boys,  sharp!  Steady  there, 
steady!  Now,  altogether,  push.  (They  grunt  as 
the  gates  swing  to.)  The  bolts! 

SECOND  GUARD.  You  saw  him;  what  if  he 
should  be  king? 


ii4    MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

A   bolt  is  shot  with  a  clang. 

FIRST  GUARD.  The  other  bolt.  (Another  bolt 
is  shot  with  a  clang.)  Well,  there  would  be  lean 
pickings  here,  then! 

They  laugh  and  go  out  along  the  terrace  at  the 
right,  the  torches  flashing  through  the  window  as 
they  pass.  The  last  flicker  of  the  torches  vanishes 
and  the  sound  of  steps  dies  away.  Perfect  silence 
and  darkness  possess  the  scene,  moon,  mountain. 
Court  and  portico  yielding  to  them. 

VISION  II 

Imperceptibly,  the  silence  melts  into  low  sweet 
music  like  the  distant  murmur  of  flowing  waters, 
and  the  darkness  turns  into  a  faintly  luminous  mist. 
The  music  and  light  increase.  By  degrees  there 
comes  to  view  through  the  thinning  mist  the  wall 
and  gateway  of  a  glorious  City.  The  wall  is  built 
of  translucent  crystal,  encrusted  with  gems  of  sur 
passing  luster,  and  surmounted  by  turrets  and  para 
pet.  A  resplendent  gateway  of  pure  luminous  pearl 
pierces  the  wall  midway.  A  pavement  of  pure  gold 
fills  in  the  gateway  and  the  area  immediately  in 
front  of  it.  Through  this  gateway  appears  a  street 
of  pure  gold,  leading  through  an  avenue  of  beauti 
ful  trees  to  a  wonderful  palace  of  crystalline  gold 
that  glows  as  if  it  were  the  source  of  all  light.  A 
throne  of  gold,  inwrought  with  jewels,  stands  in 
front  and  a  little  to  the  left  of  the  gateway.  It 
is  approached  by  steps  of  gold  from  both  sides  and 
in  front.  A  rainbow  arch  of  rare  transparency,  in 
which  the  colors  quiver  and  flame,  overspreads  the 
throne.  A  golden  scepter  in  the  form  of  a  shepherd's 


VISION  II  115 

crook  leans  against  the  throne  at  the  left.  White 
pebbles  cover  the  foreground. 

In  the  left  foreground  stands  a  throng  of  Men 
and  Women,  all,  with  one  exception,  in  pure  white. 
Prominent  among  these  are  the  Twelve  Disciples, 
although  Judas,  who  is  in  ordinary  dress  as  in  the 
second  Act,  stands  a  little  apart  toward  the  left 
front.  In  the  right  foreground  is  another  throng 
of  Men  and  Women,  but  these,  with  one  exception, 
are  in  black.  Among  these  are  Caiaphas,  whose 
highpriestly  vestments  are  black,  Annas,  and  near 
him  toward  the  right  front  Ruth,  who  alone  of  these 
is  in  ordinary  dress  as  in  the  second  Act.  Occasion 
ally  a  hostile  look  is  turned  toward  her,  apparently 
because  of  her  dress,  and  she  clings  to  Annas  as  if 
for  protection. 

Jeshua,  appareled  like  a  king  in  cloth  of  gold  and 
wearing  a  golden  crown,  enters  through  the  gate 
way.  He  is  accompanied  by  the  Outcasts  of  Society 
in  motley  array,  Beggars,  Sinners,  the  Diseased  and 
the  Crippled,  and  Children  frolic  about  him  and 
hold  his  hands.  The  faces  of  the  Outcasts  are  suf 
fused  with  joy.  Angels  appear  on  the  parapet  and 
turrets,  those  above  the  gateway  with  golden  trump 
ets,  the  others  with  harps.  The  former  blow  their 
trumpets  and  cry. 

ANGELS  WITH  TRUMPETS.     Behold  your  King! 

PEOPLE  IN  FRONT  (prostrate  themselves).  Hail 
to  our  King!  Hallelujah! 

The  music  now  swells  and  bursts  into  a  ringing 
chant,  which  the  Angels  with  harps  sing  to  the  ac 
companiment  of  their  harps. 


n6    MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

ANGELS  WITH  HARPS. 
'Give  the  King  thy  judgments,  O  God, 
Even  thy  righteousness  to  the  King's  son ; 
That  he  may  judge  the  people  with  righteousness, 
And  thy  poor  with  justice.' 

The  Angels  with  trumpets  blow  their  trumpets, 
and  the  People  in  front  do  obeisance.  The  chant 
is  resumed  to  the  accompaniment  of  harps. 

ANGELS  WITH  HARPS. 

'So  shall  he  come  down  like  rain  on  the  mown  grass, 
As  showers  that  water  the  earth. 
In  his  days  shall  the  righteous  flourish, 
And   abundance   of   peace,    throughout   all   genera 
tions.' 

The  Angels  with  trumpets  blow  their  trumpets, 
and  the  People  in  front  do  obesiance.  The  chant 
is  resumed  to  the  accompaniment  of  harps. 

ANGELS  WITH  HARPS. 

'But  as  for  the  wicked,  the  fire  shall  devour  them; 
The  Lord  shall  swallow  them  up  in  his  wrath ; 
He  will  make  them  as  a  fiery  furnace  in  his  anger.' 

During  the  chant  Jeshua  approaches  the  throne 
and  ascends  it.  The  Children  crowd  around  and 
sit  on  the  steps,  while  he  reaches  down  and  lifts  up 
a  Crippled  Boy  who  has  difficulty  in  finding  a  seat. 
As  he  sits  down,  he  holds  the  Boy  on  his  knee.  With 
his  right  hand  he  grasps  the  scepter.  Toward  the 
end  of  the  chant  a  pure  white  Dove  circles  down  to 
a  seat  on  the  throne  just  above  him.  As  it  settles, 
the  chant  ends,  the  Angels  with  trumpets  blow  their 
trumpets,  and  the  People  in  front  shout  and  do 
obeisance. 


VISION  II  117 

PEOPLE  IN  FRONT.  The  Dove!  the  Dove!  Hail 
to  our  King! 

The  music  sinks  to  a  low  sweet  pulsing  of  joy. 
For  the  first  time  Jeshua  looks  up,  as  he  turns  to 
those  in  white  standing  in  the  left  foreground. 

PEOPLE  IN  WHITE.     The  Master  himself! 

JESHUA.  Come,  you  blessed  of  my  Father;  enter 
the  kingdom  prepared  for  you  from  the  foundation 
of  the  world.  For  when  I  was  hungry,  it  was  you 
fed  me ;  when  I  was  thirsty,  you  quenched  my  thirst ; 
when  I  came  to  you  a  stranger,  you  received  me; 
when  in  rags,  you  clothed  me ;  when  I  was  sick,  you 
visited  me;  and  when  I  was  in  prison,  you  came  to 
me. 

PEOPLE  IN  WHITE.  Lord,  when  did  we  see  you 
hungry,  and  feed  you? —  Or  thirsty,  and  quench 
your  thirst? —  And  when  did  you  come  to  us  a 
stranger,  and  we  receive  you? —  Or  in  rags,  and 
clothe  you  ? —  And  when  did  we  see  you  sick  or  in 
prison,  and  come  to  you? 

JESHUA.  My  friends,  it  was  when  you  helped 
some  one  of  these  brothers  of  mine,  (indicating  the 
Outcasts  and  Children  about  him)  the  very  least 
of  them,  that  you  did  it  to  me. 

The  Angels  with  trumpets  blow  their  trumpets, 
as  he  holds  out  his  scepter  to  those  in  white.  Im 
mediately  the  other  Angels  begin  a  chant  to  the 
accompaniment  of  harps. 

ANGELS  WITH  HARPS. 

'This  is  the  gate  of  the  Lord', 
Let  the  righteous  enter  therein!' 

During   the    chant   and   the   following   those   in 


ii8    MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

white  pass  before  the  throne,  enter  the  gateway  and 
assemble  in  the  street  beyond.  Judas  lingers  behind, 
although  several  beckon  him  to  accompany  them. 
He  looks  up  only  to  see  his  Master  looking  at  him 
in  sorrow,  whereupon  he  drops  his  head  and  presses 
back  to  the  extreme  left  front.  While  this  is  taking 
place,  those  in  black  are  not  inactive. 

CAIAPHAS.  They  have  been  admitted  for  doing 
alms.  How  much  more  we  who  have  kept  the 
Temple. 

ANNAS  (scowls).  Yet  why  this  indignity  of 
clothing  us  in  black?  And  his  features  are  strange 
ly  familiar.  If  he  would  but  turn — 

The  People  in  black  have  crowded  around  Ruth, 
and  now  speak  angrily. 

SEVERAL  IN  BLACK.  Put  her  out! —  She  is  not 
in  black ! —  Aye,  put  her  out ! —  You  do  not  belong 
with  us! 

RUTH  (in  a  frenzy).  No,  not  that!  Not  be 
fore  him!  Oh! 

They  thrust  her  out  into  the  central  foreground, 
where  she  cowers  piteously,  afraid  to  return  and 
afraid  to  go. 

ANNAS.     Be  quiet!    Ha!  it  is  the  false  prophet! 

For  Jeshua  has  just  turned  his  face  toward  the 
People  in  black,  and  looks  on  them  with  sadness. 
There  is  now  perceptible  the  motif  of  infinite  sor 
row  mingling  increasingly  in  the  music  with  the 
prevailing  motif  of  ineffable  peace,  while  a  third 
motif  of  despair  creeps  in.  Whenever  Jeshua  speaks, 
one  is  aware  of  the  motif  of  sorrow  as  if  his  sorrow 
were  an  overwhelming  burden;  but  by  degrees  the 


VISION  II  119 

third  motif  of  terrified  despair  swells  until  at  the 
close  of  his  last  speech  it  becomes  dominant.  Yet 
through  it  all  one  is  aware  of  the  motif  of  peace 
curiously  melting  into  these  others  and  molding 
them  to  its  likeness  as  if  the  peace  of  infinity  brooded 
over  all.  Just  now  Jeshua  speaks,  but  more  in  sor 
row  than  anger  as  if  heart-broken  at  the  sentence 
he  must  pronounce. 

JESHUA.  Depart  from  me,  you  who  are  guilty 
of  the  wrath  of  God, — 

They  start  in  amazement,  and,  as  his  meaning 
becomes  evident,  terror  seizes  them  and  they  cower. 

JESHUA.  — into  the  everlasting  fire  prepared 
for  the  devil  and  his  ministers, — 

CAIAPHAS.  But,  Lord,  are  we  not  ministers  of 
the  Temple  of  the  Most  High? 

JESHUA.  For  I  was  hungry,  and  you  did  not 
feed  me;  I  was  thirsty,  and  you  did  not  quench 
my  thirst;  I  came  to  you  a  stranger,  and  you  did 
not  receive  me;  in  rags,  and  you  did  not  clothe 
me;  sick  and  in  prison,  and  you  did  not  come  to  me. 

PEOPLE  IN  BLACK.  But,  Lord,  when  did  we 
see  you  hungry, — or  thirsty, — or  a  stranger, — or 
in  rags, — or  sick, — or  in  prison, — and  not  minister 
to  you? 

JESHUA.  It  was  when  you  refused  to  help  some 
one  of  these  brothers  of  mine,  that  you  refused  it 
to  me. 

Those  in  black,  with  the  exception  of  Annas, 
moan  in  terror  and  prostrate  themselves. 

PEOPLE  IN  BLACK.  Woe!  woe!  Have  mercy 
on  us,  Lord!  Mercy!  mercy! 


1 20     MESSIAH  ENTERS  JERUSALEM 

ANNAS  (stands  defiantly).  False  prophet  and 
usurper  of  the  throne  of  God,  I  bid  you  defiance! 

A  blinding  flash  of  lightning  strikes  at  his  feet 
with  a  terrific  clap  of  thunder,  and  a  chasm  opens 
separating  those  in  black  from  the  throne.  Smoke 
and  fire  issue,  the  ground  slowly  sinks  away,  and 
they  are  engulfed  in  flames  and  darkness  amid 
groans  and  shrieks  of  terror.  At  the  same  moment 
the  City,  throne,  Angels,  People  in  white,  Children, 
Outcasts  and  Jeshua  dissolve  into  the  darkness,  only 
the  rainbow  arch  dimly  shining  through  the  clouds. 
In  the  last  lurid  gleams  Ruth  and  Judas  are  seen 
fleeing  away  in  terror.  The  angry  jnutterings  cease, 
only  the  rainbow  faintly  gleams,  and  low  sweet 
music  like  the  distant  murmur  of  flowing  waters 
pulsates  through  space.  Last  of  all  the  rainbow  dis 
solves  and  the  music  melts  into  silence. 


ACT  III 
THE  MESSIAH  OVERCOMES 


A  certain  man  said:  I  will  follow  thee,  Lord; 
but  first  suffer  me  to  bid  farewell  to  them  at  home. 
JESHUA  BAR- JOSEPH  saith:  No  man  putteth  hand  to 
plow  and  looking  back  is  fit  for  the  kingdom  of  God. 

JESHUA  BAR- JOSEPH  saith:  There  are  eunuchs 
that  were  born  eunuchs  from  their  mother's  womb; 
and  there  are  eunuchs  that  were  made  eunuchs  by 
men;  and  there  are  eunuchs  that  made  themselves 
eunuchs  for  the  kingdom  of  God's  sake. 

JESHUA  BAR- JOSEPH  saith:  The  Son  of  Adam 
came  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minister  and 
to  give  his  life  a  ransom  for  many. 

— The  Words  of  Jeshua  bar-Joseph. 


ACT  III 
THE  MESSIAH  OVERCOMES 

Gethsemane,  an  olive  garden  on  the  western  slope 
of  Mount  Olivet  overlooking  Jerusalem;  the  night 
following  the  Fifth  Day  of  the  week  on  the  morrow 
of  which  the  lamb  is  killed  and  prepared  for  the 
Passover. 

The  rising  slope  of  Olivet,  which  occupies  the 
entire  background,  leads  down  to  a  fairly  level  space 
in  the  immediate  foreground.  A  small  grotto  in 
the  slope  opens  on  the  level  of  the  garden  a  little 
toward  the  right  and  in  front  of  any  one  who  might 
be  looking  into  the  garden  from  the  Jerusalem  side. 
The  irregular  rock  within  and  on  both  sides  of  this 
cave  forms  natural  shelves  roughly  suitable  for  sit 
ting.  Irregular  paths  straggle  down  the  slope,  one 
from  the  right,  the  other  from  the  left,  and  give  on 
the  garden  on  either  side  of  the  cave.  A  little  toward 
the  left  in  the  garden  is  a  circular  stone  oil-mill,  in 
which  is  to  be  seen  resting  the  stone  crushing-wheel 
with  its  crude  but  stout  axle  beam.  Back  of  the  mill 
is  a  primitive  open  shed  with  thatch  roof,  covering 
a  motley  assortment  of  wicker  baskets,  firkins,  ladles, 
mats  and  the  like.  Olive  trees  cover  the  slope  and 
partly  fill  the  garden,  leaving  only  a  clear  space  be 
tween  the  shed,  cave  and  mill. 

Midnight  draws  on  apace  in  the  clear  moonlight 
that  plays  over  the  garden,  the  moon  being  presum 
ably  at  the  full  although  unseen. 

Ruth  enters  the  garden  anxiously  from  the  right 
123 


124       THE  MESSIAH  OVERCOMES 

front,  immediately  followed  by  her  maid  Abigail, 
the  latter  betraying  fear  at  each  step.  The  former 
is  again  clothed  in  a  rose-pink  silk  kethoneth,  as  in 
the  first  Act,  girdle  and  all,  except  for  the  absence 
of  head  jewelry  and  the  dainty  shawl.  Instead,  she 
wears  a  meil  and  shawl  of  some  dark  red  stuff  that 
in  the  darkness  of  the  garden  partly  conceals  her. 
Her  maid  is  likewise  concealed  in  a  simlah-like  cape 
of  some  dark  material.  Apparently  both  are  anxious 
to  conceal  their  identity  and  escape  undue  notice. 

ABIGAIL.  Come  back,  mistress;  this  is  fool 
hardy  ! 

RUTH.  Hush,  Abigail.  Ah,  there  is  a  cave! 
This  must  be  the  place. 

ABIGAIL.  Anyway,  it's  a  horrid  place.  Ugh- 
h-h!  I'm  creeping! 

RUTH  (comes  to  center).  It  is!  There  is  the 
oil-mill  and  shed. 

Just  then  her  maid  grasps  her  arm,  points  to  the 
stuff  under  the  shed  and  shudders. 

ABIGAIL.   Ugh,  wh-what's  that?    Oh,  it's  a  man! 

RUTH.  Fool!  Only  olive  baskets.  We  are 
safe  enough  with  the  moonlight.  (She  looks  about 
thoughtfully.)  So  this  is  the  place  where  he  spends 
his  nights. 

ABIGAIL  (looks  fearfully  at  the  cave).  Oh,  oh! 
what's  that?  There!  It's  moving,  oh-h! 

A  bat  flies  out  of  the  cave  and  disappears  among 
the  trees. 

RUTH.  Only  a  bat,  see !  But  hush ;  he  must  not 
hear  us. 

ABIGAIL.  Mistress,  come  home?  It's  past  mid 
night  and  all  Jerusalem  is  asleep.  Come? 


ACT  III  125 

RUTH  (abstracted).  Jerusalem  sleeps,  and  he 
comes  to  pray.  (A  pause.)  Abigail? 

ABIGAIL.     Yes,  mistress. 

RUTH.     He  ought  to  die,  don't  you  think? 

ABIGAIL.  Yes,  mistress;  but  don't  talk  of  dying 
here,  ugh! 

RUTH.     But  why  should  he  die? 

ABIGAIL.     A  disturber  like  him,  why  not? 

RUTH.     Yes,  and  yet — 

ABIGAIL.  Mistress,  is  it  permitted  to  say  one 
thing? 

RUTH.     What  is  it? 

ABIGAIL.     You  wont  take  offense? 

RUTH.     No;  speak. 

ABIGAIL.     Perhaps,  I'd  better  not. 

RUTH.     Come;  what  are  you  thinking  of? 

ABIGAIL.  I  was  just  thinking  of — you  wont  take 
offense? — no? — of  what  Captain  yEmilianus  said. 

RUTH.  What  yEmilianus  says  does  not  interest 
me.  Be  brief. 

ABIGAIL.  He  came  again  this — that  is,  yesterday — 
afternoon,  and  asked  for  you. 

RUTH.     You  sent  him  away,  of  course. 
ABIGAIL.     Ye-es,  of  course. 

RUTH.  And  told  him  I  would  never  see  him 
again  ? 

ABIGAIL.  Yes;  but  he  wouldn't  leave  at  once, 
and  while  I  waited  for  him  to  go — 

RUTH.  I  told  you  to  have  him  turned  out,  if 
he  refused  to  go. 


126       THE  MESSIAH  OVERCOMES 

ABIGAIL.  Yes,  mistress.  But  (impulsively)  he 
thinks  it  is  because  you  saw  the  prophet  in  the 
Temple  that  you  have  since  refused  to  see  him. 

RUTH  (sternly).  And  how  did  he  know  we  met 
at  the  Temple  ?  Did  you  tell  him  ? 

ABIGAIL.  Well,  maybe,  I  wasn't  just  discreet 
and  dropped  a  hint. 

RUTH  (sharply).  Why  will  you —  But,  per 
haps  it  is  just  as  well  he  knows. 

ABIGAIL.  And  he  thinks  you  are —  Oh,  I  am 
afraid  to  say  it! 

RUTH.  Come,  out  with  it!  I  must  know  how 
much  you  have  talked  with  him. 

ABIGAIL.     It  is  nothing,  really,  mistress. 

RUTH.     No  more  evasions.     Speak! 

ABIGAIL  (agitated,  points  toward  left).  Mis 
tress,  I  hear  some  one  moving  over  there! 

RUTH.     The  wind,   only.     Speak! 

ABIGAIL.     No,  it  must  be —  How  can  I  tell  you  ? 

RUTH  (shakes  her  roughly).  There  is  something 
between  you  and  ^milianus.  Now  speak! 

ABIGAIL  (falls  to  her  knees).  Mistress,  I  did 
wrong,  I  know;  but  he  is  such  a  handsome  man, 
and,  and  he  wants  you — and  he  says  you  are  in 
love  with  this  prophet — 

RUTH  (starts).     In  love! 

ABIGAIL.  And  he  begged  to  be  allowed  to  see 
you,  and,  and —  Oh,  how  can  I  tell  you? 

RUTH.     Speak! 

ABIGAIL.     I  c-couldn't  get  rid  of  him  until  I  told 


ACT  III  127 

him  th-that  you  were  to  be  here  tonight ! 

RUTH.     You  told  him  that?    You  hussy! 

She  strikes  Abigail,  who  rises  and  steps  out  of  her 
reach. 

ABIGAIL.     Mercy,  mistress! 

RUTH.  Silence!  Everything  is  spoiled  by  your 
meddling,  you  fool!  Stay  and  meet  him.  I  go. 

Ruth  turns  and  starts  to  go  out  by  the  way  they 
both  came,  while  her  maid  calls  after  her. 

ABIGAIL.     Mistress,  don't  leave  me!     Oh! 

^Emilianus,  Captain  of  the  Procurator 's  Guard, 
enters  the  garden  from  the  left  front.  Burly,  dom 
inating,  decisive,  one  overlooks  the  fact  of  his  small 
stature.  One  can  only  guess  at  his  age  in  the  pale 
light,  and  it  is  only  a  surmise  that  daylight  would 
reveal  a  coarse  animal  face,  deeply  lined  by  gnawing 
ambition  and  brute  passions.  One  regrets  the  lack 
of  light  to  see  whether  traces  of  a  noble  character 
still  remain;  yet  the  impression  lingers  that  he  and 
the  darkness  are  familiars,  understanding  each  other 
thoroughly  and  uncomfortable  when  separated.  For 
the  rest,  he  is  evidently  a  Roman  soldier  who  has 
seen  much  service.  He  is  completely  wrapped  in  a 
long  military  cloak  of  dark  blue  or  gray  as  if  to 
render  himself  inconspicuous;  but  the  line  of  his 
sword  shows  through  on  the  left,  and  his  head  is 
bare  as  if  he  had  slipped  away  from  the  palace  when 
chance  offered.  At  present  he  is  very  much  aware 
that  his  quarry  is  near,  and  shows  a  consequent  ex 
citement.  He  sees  the  maid. 

^EMILIANUS.  You  have  prepared  her?  Where 
is  she? 


128       THE  MESSIAH  OVERCOMES 
ABIGAIL.     Quick;  there  she  goes! 

^LMILIANUS.      Good!      Out,  HOW ! 

He  gives  her  a  coin,  motions  her  off  toward  the 
left  with  a  wicked  back  jerk  of  the  left  hand,  and 
starts  in  pursuit  of  his  quarry.  Abigail  lingers  as 
if  afraid  to  go  off  alone.  He  calls. 

^MILIANUS.     Ruth ! 

Startled  at  his  voice  Ruth  turns  at  the  right  of  the 
cave,  and  before  she  can  recover  herself  and  run  off, 
he  intercepts. 

^EMILIANUS.    At  last  I  find  you! 

RUTH.     Let  me  pass! 

He  catches  her  roughly. 

^EMILIANUS.  So  this  is  the  way  you  reward 
me? 

RUTH.     Let  me  go! 

She  struggles  to  free  herself.  He  notices  over  his 
shoulder  that  Abigail  is  still  present  and  nods  to  her 
commandingly  to  get  out.  She  hesitates,  smiles 
knowingly  at  him,  and  then  goes  out  at  the  left  front 
timidly. 

RUTH.     Abigail!     Abigail!     Help  me,  Abigail! 

^EMILIANUS.  It  is  useless  to  call;  she  is  already 
gone. 

RUTH.  I  might  have  known  as  much.  You 
ruffian ! 

^MILIANUS.  Call  me  what  you  please,  darling. 
(He  laughs.)  We  are  alone,  you  see. 

Ruth  gives  up  despairing. 

RUTH.    Well,  what  is  it  you  want? 


ACT  III    m  129 

In  the  struggle  he  forces  her  to  the  mouth  of  the 
cave  and  now  releases  her  with  a  laugh  and  stands 
insolently  before  her  on  guard. 

^EMILIANUS.  Ah,  that's  better.  We  can — ha — 
talk  so  much  more  comfortably,  if  you  stay  quiet. 

RUTH.     At  least,  be  quick  with  your  words. 

yEMiLiANUS.  Are  you  so  anxious  to  be  done  with 
me  then? 

RUTH.  You  doubt  it?  Oh,  I  hate  you,  I  loathe 
you,  you  with  your  smooth  ways,  for  the  ease  with 
which  I  yielded  to  you,  for  the  very  hours  we  have 
spent  together!  Let  me  go! 

She  makes  a  sudden  dash,  but  is  intercepted. 

^EMILIANUS.  Come,  come,  what's  this  you  are 
saying? 

RUTH.  I  mean  it  every  word.  You  think  I 
am  afraid  of  what  you  may  do  to  me  here,  ha! 
As  though  this  body  counts  for  anything !  Nothing 
you  can  do  will  harm  me  now.  I  have  a  deeper 
hurt  here,  in  my  heart,  in  my  soul. 

She  looks  at  him  proudly  as  if  expecting  a  laugh; 
but  he  is  silent  and  contemplates  her  curiously  as  if 
a  new  thought  has  occurred  to  him. 

RUTH.  Why  don't  you  laugh?  You  think  I 
have  no  soul. 

^EMILIANUS.  No,  Ruth ;  you  misunderstand  me. 
I  have  done  you  a  wrong.  When  you  shut  your 
door  against  me  five  days  ago —  Do  you  think  it 
was  easy  for  me  to  brook  the  insult  and  then  come 
for  you  here? 

RUTH.  You  do  not  understand.  I  despise  my 
self  so  utterly;  but  you?  Oh-h,  why  was  I  born? 


130       THE  MESSIAH  OVERCOMES 

She  turns  from  him  with  loathing. 

/EMILIANUS.     Be  calm,  Ruth. 

RUTH.  Calm?  Yes,  despair  is  calm.  To  think, 
not  eight  months  ago  I  came  to  you  an  innocent 
girl,  holding  a  pure  white  soul  in  my  hand  to  the 
man  I  thought  you  were,  and  then — 

yEiviiLiANUS.  Don't  think  of  it  now,  Ruth.  I 
have  something  to  say — 

RUTH.  You  seemed  so  noble  and  true,  and  then 
in  a  mad  moment  I  tore  my  soul  to  shreds  in  your 
arms!  Oh,  the  fault  was  not  yours  altogether;  I 
was  reckless.  But  you,  you  found  me  in  my  mad 
ness  and  with  sweet  words  stole  away  my  soul! 
How  utterly  I  despise  you!  Let  me  pass! 

yEMiLiANUS  (holds  her  back}.  Hear  me  this 
once  and  judge.  You  are  right;  I  was  despicable. 
Wantonly,  cruelly,  I  took  advantage  of  your  mad 
ness,  and  all  these  past  months  have  I  held  you 
too  lightly.  But,  Ruth,  believe  me,  that  is  all  past. 

RUTH.     Then  why  are  you  here? 

^EMILIANUS.  Just  because  it  is  past,  dear.  I 
did  not  know  how  much  you  were  to  me  until 
you  broke  with  me  five  days  ago,  and  I  cannot  let 
you  go,  I  will  not  let  you  go  out  of  my  life.  Per 
haps,  the  old  life  is  impossible  now — 

He  watches  her  to  see  the  effect  of  his  words. 
She  starts  back  with  quick  repugnance. 

yEMiLiANUS.  I  see  it  is  impossible.  You  are 
worth  more  than  that.  Let  me  make  reparation  for 
the  past. 

RUTH.  Why  talk  so?  You  cannot  move  me. 
You  know  the  past  is  irretrievable. 


ACT  III  131 

Not  irretrievable!  Do  you  not 
see,  dearest,  that  I  love  you? 

With  a  quick  movement  he  tries  to  take  her  in 
his  arms  and  kiss  her;  but  she  thrusts  both  hands 
in  his  face  and  presses  herself  free  of  his  embrace. 

RUTH.  Don't  touch  me!  You  talk  of  love,  ha! 
With  the  same  words  you  led  me  to —  My  God, 
why  did  I  ever  see  you?  How  could  I  have  been 
so  blind  ?  My  God !  My  God ! 

She  turns  and  sinks  down  sobbing  on  the  rock 
ledge  at  the  left  of  the  cave.  He  approaches,  stoops 
over  her  and  touches  her  on  the  shoulder,  and  as  she 
shudders  at  his  touch,  he  speaks. 

^EMILIANUS.  Ruth,  Ruth  darling,  you  do  not 
understand.  I  did  you  a  terrible  wrong.  But  I 
will  make  you  my  wife,  dearest,  if  only  you  will  let 
me. 

RUTH  (still  sobs).    Please  go! 

^.MILIANUS.  Come  to  me,  Ruth;  let  me  make 
reparation,  wont  you,  dear? 

RUTH  (stills  sobs).     It   is — useless, — please   go! 

/TIMILIANUS.  Don't  cry  so!  You  hurt  me.  You 
don't  believe  me?  You  think  I  am  trying  to  de 
ceive  you  again.  Is  it  that,  dear?  My  God,  Ruth, 
you  don't  believe  me!  (He  walks  agitatedly  about, 
clenching  and  unclenching  his  hands,  while  she  still 
sobs.  After  a  while  he  approaches  her.)  I  under 
stand;  you  can  judge  me  only  by  the  past,  and — 
Ruth,  I  did  not  know  I  could  love  you  so  much,  I 
cannot  lose  you!  Tell  me  how  to  prove  my  love? 
Tell  me,  dear? 

RUTH.     Leave  me! 


132       THE  MESSIAH  OVERCOMES 


Not  leave  you?  Not  that,  Ruth; 
anything  but  that  ! 

RUTH  (rises  and  faces  him).  Just  that.  Leave 
me!  If  your  love  is  real,  you  know  I  can  never  see 
you  again.  Do  you  think  the  wound  of  my  soul 
would  heal  in  your  presence? 

yEMiLiANUS.    Let  me  try  to  heal  it,  dear. 

RUTH.  How  shall  I  know  it  is  not  this  body 
you  want?  No,  it  is  impossible.  If  your  love  is 
more  than  that,  you  can  prove  it  only  by  leaving  me 
now  forever. 

^EMILIANUS.  Not  forever!  Then  is  there  no 
chance  of  your  loving  me? 

RUTH.  Loving  you?  I  do  not  hate  you,  I  utter 
ly  despise  you  !  Not  hell,  nor  heaven,  nor  God  him 
self  could  ever  make  me  love  you!  (She  stamps 
her  foot.)  Go! 

^MILIANUS.  Perhaps  you  are  right.  But  al 
though  you  despise  me,  I  must,  I  will  have  you!  I 
will  not  leave  you! 

RUTH  (scornfully).     Then  you  do  not  love  me. 

^£MILIANUS.  How  you  have  changed  since  you 
met  that  mad  Galilean  in  the  Temple!  Ah,  I  see 
it  all;  you  are  here  to  meet  him!  (She  recoils.) 
So  you  did  not  hate  him  after  all,  ha!  Your  hatred 
was  but  a  ruse,  a  blind.  Fool  that  I  am!  The 
guards  at  the  gate  said  they  were  to  arrest  him  here, 
and  you  are  come  to  keep  tryst  with  him.  Every 
thing  is  plain;  you  have  been  unfaithful  to  me,  you 
wanton  ! 

RUTH  (with  bitter  scorn).  Yes,  everything  is 
plain  now.  The  love  you  but  now  protested  so  hot- 


ACT  III  133 

ly,  what  is  it  but —    Bah,  you  beast ! 

yEMiLiANUS  (takes  a  step  toward  her).  You 
wanton,  now  I  will  break  you! 

RUTH  (with  increasing  scorn).  Yes,  wanton, 
wanton !  But  who  made  me  a  wanton,  you  coward  ? 
(He  makes  a  threatening  move.)  Oh,  I  am  not 
afraid  of  you.  You  accuse  me  of  loving  him.  Do 
you  suppose  he  would  have  any  traffic  with  me? 
He  is  as  immeasurably  above  you  as  true  love  sur 
passes  what  you  feel  toward  me.  Did  he  know  1 
am  here,  (choking)  he  would  not  come. 

Her  manner  completely  changes.  She  falls  to  her 
knees  and  brokenly  pleads  with  him.  The  effect  on 
him  is  first  surprise  and  astonishment,  and  then  as 
he  involuntarily  steps  back  from  her,  she  follows 
on  her  knees,  while  she  speaks. 

RUTH.  Oh,  vEmilianus,  I  will  do  anything  you 
want  of  me  after  tonight,  if  you  will  only  leave  me 
here  now!  See,  I  ask  you  on  my  knees,  ^Lmilianus! 
I'll  come  to  you  on  hands  and  knees,  I'll  be  your 
plaything,  anything,  and  when  you  tire  of  me,  I'll 
let  you  kick  me  out  of  your  house,  and  kiss  your 
foot  as  you  do  it,  if  you  will  go  now!  I  am  so 
utterly  worthless,  what  matters  what  becomes  of 
me  after  tonight  ?  Do  what  you  will  with  me. 
Only  tonight;  give  me  tonight,  ^Emilianus? 

^EMILIANUS.  Tonight — here — with  him?  And 
you  love  him ;  how  can  I  trust  you  ? 

RUTH.  I  shall  be  yours  after  tonight,  M- 
milianus.  Give  me  tonight? 

^EMILIANUS.  You  promise  there  will  be  nothing 
between  you?  Yet  how  can  I  believe  your  promise? 


134       THE  MESSIAH  OVERCOMES 

RUTH  (with  a  despairing  cry).  My  punishment 
is  just!  You  will  not  believe  me.  (She  creeps 
to  him  on  her  knees  and  clasps  her  hands  to  him.) 
yEmilianus,  believe  me  this  once!  There  can  be 
nothing  between  us.  He — he — he  hates  me,  he 
would  not  touch  me,  yEmilianus.  Give  me  tonight, 
only  tonight? 

^EMILIANUS  (grudgingly).  Well,  tonight  then; 
but  tomorrow  you  shall  be  mine!  Kiss  me! 

He  seizes  her  roughly,  lifts  her  to  her  feet  and 
tries  to  kiss  her.  She  half  yields  to  him  and  then 
breaks  away. 

RUTH.  No,  no,  I  cannot,  I  cannot  do  it!  Oh, 
my  God ! 

^EMILIANUS.    Ruth ! 

Baffled,  he  stands  uncertainly  watching  her.  She 
has  turned  from  him  and  stands  in  an  attitude  of 
despair.  A  pause.  Then  with  a  struggle  she  com 
poses  herself,  turns  to  him  with  forced  merriment 
and  shakes  a  finger  at  him. 

RUTH.  Naughty  boy!  Not  tonight,  and  to 
morrow  you  shall  have  your  reward!  (She  laughs 
nervously.)  I — I  just  want  to  witness  his  arrest; 
he — he — dies  tomorrow,  and  the  Temple  guards 
would  be  suspicious  if  they  saw  a  Roman  here. 
(She  forces  a  laugh.)  Go  now,  there's  a  good  boy! 

^£MILIANUS.  I  cannot  make  you  out;  you  have 
been  playing  with  me  all  this  time,  is  that  it? 

She  seemingly  relents  and  gives  him  her  hand, 
which  he  kisses  passionately. 

RUTH.     Foolish,  you  may  kiss  my  hand  for  that! 


ACT  III  135 

Now  go! 

After  kissing  her  hand,  he  looks  at  her  puzzled, 
hesitates  and  then  goes  out  in  doubt  by  the  way  he 
came.  Instantly  a  look  of  loathing  covers  her  face, 
and  she  disgustedly  wipes  off  the  spot  where  he 
kissed  her  on  the  hand. 

RUTH.     So  I  have  come  to  that! 

She  walks  about  uncertainly,  sighs,  sits  on  the 
mill  and  sinks  into  an  attitude  of  utter  dejection. 
After  an  interval  Judas,  dressed  as  before,  enters 
furtively  down  the  slope  from  the  left,  comes  down 
the  path  quickly  and  looks  about  eagerly. 

JUDAS  (softly).     Ruth!    Ruth! 

She  gasps,  looks  around  wildly  for  a  hiding  place, 
half  rises,  sees  she  is  discovered,  and  calms  herself  as 
she  stands. 

JUDAS.     Ah,  there  you  are! 

He  comes  down  to  her. 

RUTH.  But — but  I  thought  you  were —  Why 
are  you  here? 

JUDAS.  Oh,  Abigail  found  me  at  the  Kidron 
bridge,  said  you  were  here.  Is  it  not  a  risk,  your 
being  here  at  this  time  ?  What  if  he  should  find  you 
here? 

RUTH.  Trust  me ;  I  shall  hide  up  the  slope  and 
watch  what  happens.  They  are  to  arrest  him  here? 

JUDAS.  Yes.  But  be  careful ;  I  had  much  rather 
you  had  not  come. 

RUTH.     Is  everything  arranged? 

JUDAS.  Everything.  A  strong  squad  is  at  the 
East  Gate  and  will  move  as  soon  as  I  report  he  has 


136       THE  MESSIAH  OVERCOMES 

crossed  the  Kidron.  I  shall,  of  course,  bring  them 
here.  The  rest  is  simple.  The  Sanhedrin  now  sits 
to  expedite  the  formality  of  his  condemnation  imme 
diately  on  his  arrest  and  presentation  to  them ;  Pilate 
is  warned ;  and  his  execution  will  take  place  in  the 
morning. 

RUTH.  Against  all  precedent.  Why  not  give 
him  the  one  day  required  by  Law? 

JUDAS.  No  precedent  holds  in  the  case  of  a 
traitor.  And  think  of  it!  Your  uncle  assures  me 
that  no  sooner  has  his  death  satisfied  Rome  of  our 
continued  loyalty  than  the  Sanhedrin  will  make  the 
proper  approach  to  the  emperor  for  our  own  king. 
He  has  talked  with  ^Emilianus — 

RUTH.    .'Emilianus? 

JUDAS.  Yes;  secretly.  It  develops  that  the  em 
peror  is  thoroughly  dissatisfied  with  Pilate's  admin 
istration  and  expects  to  recall  him  shortly.  I  under 
stand  ^Emilianus  desires  the  office  and  expects  to 
marry  an  Israelitess  to  secure  our  loyalty. 

RUTH  (startled).    My  God,  so  that  is  it! 

JUDAS.  Impossible,  of  course;  no  woman  in 
Israel  would  marry  a  Gentile.  At  any  rate,  Annas 
hopes  to  obtain  the  appointment  of  a  Davidic  king 
through  his  secret  mission.  He  hints  at  suggesting 
me — 

Confused  voices  rise  from  somewhere  in  the  dis 
tance  murmuring,  as  if  persons  were  approaching  the 
garden.  He  starts  at  the  sound  and  Ruth  also  shows 
quick  agitation. 

JUDAS.  He,  and  the  disciples!  I  must  go.  The 
restoration  of  Israel  is  certain,  and  then  you  are 


ACT  III  137 

mine,  darling! 

He  tries  to  kiss  her,  is  repelled,  shows  surprise, 
but  before  he  can  utter  a  word,  persons  move  above 
at  the  left  back,  and  both  run  out  hurriedly,  Judas 
at  the  left  front  and  Ruth  at  the  right  front.  Jeshua, 
Symeon,  Jacob  and  Jochanan,  dressed  as  before, 
enter  above  from  the  left  and  slowly  come  down  the 
path  to  the  garden.  One  of  them  points  to  the  oil- 
mill. 

JACOB.  Master,  the  Gethsemane.  Shall  we  re 
turn  now  to  the  others? 

JESHUA.     Not  yet;  come. 

They  descend  into  the  garden. 

JOCHANAN.  Master,  it  is  the  fifth  day  since  the 
people  led  you  with  shout  and  song  to  the  Temple, 
and  they  grow  restless.  When  shall  you  reestablish 
the  kingdom? 

SYMEON.  True,  Master.  They  were  ready, 
still  are,  to  receive  you  as  their  king.  How  easy 
with  all  this  Passover  multitude  to  drive  out  the 
Romans  and  be  free  again ! 

JACOB.  And  many  are  asking  whether  you  are 
not  the  Messiah.  But  our  lips  are  sealed,  you  have 
not  spoken. 

JESHUA  (wearily).  Still  the  kingship  and  Rome's 
overthrow ! 

SYMEON.  But  the  opportunity  is  slipping  away. 
Murmurs  are  sweeping  the  crowds:  'If  he  be  the 
Messiah,  why  does  he  not  declare  himself?' 

JOCHANAN.  They  begin  to  doubt  and  clamor 
for  some  signal  act  of  deliverance.  Master,  why 
wait  longer? 


138       THE  MESSIAH  OVERCOMES 

SYMEON.     Why  let  them  fall  away  again? 

JESHUA.     So  they  are  falling  away? 

JACOB.  And  the  priests  are  becoming  bolder. 
I  am  afraid  of  I  know  not  what;  but  some  danger 
threatens.  I  fear  they  are  watching  for  a  decline  of 
popular  enthusiasm  to  set  in  before  bringing  you  to 
trial.  We  know  they  can  do  you  no  harm;  you 
are  the  Messiah.  But — 

SYMEON.     Why  lose  this  chance? 

JESHUA.  It  is  then  your  united  judgment  there 
be  no  further  delay? 

DISCIPLES.     No  further  delay. 

JESHUA.  That  the  kingship  be  forthwith  de 
clared  and  the  effort  made  to  reestablish  it? 

DISCIPLES.     At   once. 

JESHUA.  That  you  be  permitted  to  announce 
me  the  Messiah  publicly? 

DISCIPLES.     Publicly. 

JESHUA.     Otherwise,  my  people  will  desert  me? 

SYMEON.  Master,  each  day  the  people  have 
crowded  the  Temple  Courts  to  hear  you  teach,  hop 
ing  you  would  declare  yourself,  and  each  night  have 
they  withdrawn  in  greater  disappointment  and  per 
plexity.  Some  say  you  have  deceived  them.  Is  it 
not  time  ?  We  believe  in  you ;  doubt  not  our  loyal 
ty.  If  need  be,  we  stand  ready  to  die  in  your 
cause.  Why  not  raise  the  standard  now?  Delay 
but  increases  the  odds  against  you.  Yes,  can  you 
count  on  all  of  your  Twelve  ?  Us  three,  of  course  ; 
but  Judas  is  gone — 

JESHUA.     Judge  not,  lest  you  be  brought  to  the 


ACT  III  139 

same  judgment! 

SYMEON.     At  least,  is  it  not  time  to  act  now? 

JESHUA  (firmly}.     So  be  it  then. 

The  three  start  with  joy  at  the  announcement, 
but  are  checked  by  a  motion  from  him. 

JESHUA.  Even  as  I  began  my  Father's  work, 
so  must  I  end.  It  is  written  that  the  Son  of  Adam 
must  suffer  many  things,  and  be  rejected  of  men, 
and  suffer  death,  that  the  kingdom  of  my  Father 
may  come.  Thus  shall  I  fulfill  his  purpose.  All 
shall  fall  away  from  me. 

DISCIPLES.     Never! 

JESHUA.  For  it  is  written:  'I  shall  smite  the 
shepherd,  and  the  sheep  shall  be  scattered.' 

SYMEON.  No,  Master;  though  all  others  fall 
away  from  you,  I  shall  not  fail  you! 

JESHUA  (sorrowfully).  Kephas,  even  you  will 
have  denied  me  before  dawn. 

SYMEON.  Never,  Master!  Even  if  I  must  die 
with  you — God  be  my  witness! — I  shall  stand  by 
you! 

JACOB.     I,  too,  Master! 

JOCHANAN.  I,  too!  We  will  not  let  them  take 
you  without  resistance.  Count  on  us  all. 

Jeshua  sighs,  looks  at  them  silently,  turns  and 
steps  forward  as  if  looking  out  over  the  City.  They 
watch  him  anxiously,  but  do  not  follow.  A  pause. 
Then  he  speaks  very  tenderly. 

JESHUA.  Jerusalem,  so  peacefully  asleep  under 
the  paschal  moon,  if  only  you  had  understood,  even 
you,  wherein  your  true  peace  lies!  But  your  eyes 


HO         THE  MESSIAH  OVERCOMES 

are  closed! 

He  groans.  Jochanan  approaches  him  solicitously 
and  touches  his  arm. 

JOCHANAN.  Master,  your  heart  is  heavy  to 
night! 

JESHUA  (turns).  Jochanan,  and  you  my  friends, 
you  have  been  loyal  friends  to  me  hitherto.  The 
days  we  walked  together  in  Galilee  and  by  the  Lake 
and  over  the  mountains,  they  were  happy  days,  were 
they  not  ? 

JACOB.     Master! 

JESHUA.  I  know.  We  were  all  very  happy  to 
gether.  And  you  three,  yes,  all  of  you,  gave  up 
everything,  home,  trade  and  kin,  to  keep  with  me. 
Was  it  worth  while? 

JOCHANAN.     Master,  you  know! 

JESHUA.  We  went  forth  without  purse,  knap 
sack  or  sandals,  dependent  on  others'  bounty.  Yet 
the  Father  did  not  forget  you? 

SYMEON  (greatly  moved).  Master,  we  cannot 
speak ! 

Unperceived  by  the  four  in  the  garden,  Ruth 
enters  above  quietly  at  the  extreme  right  and  watch 
es.  She  keeps  herself  hidden,  but  slowly  works 
down  the  slope  and  occasionally  shows  great  emotion. 

JESHUA.  My  heart  is  sorely  troubled  for  you, 
because  I  must  leave  you.  No  more  shall  you  see 
me.  You  will  not  forget?  When  I  am  taken  from 
you,  you  will  still  do  my  Father's  will  ?  And  when 
any  of  you  come  together  in  behalf  of  my  kingdom, 
you  will  believe  that  I  am  there,  too,  working  with 
you? 


ACT  III  141 

SYMEON  (groans).  Master,  we  are  yours,  we 
shall  always  be  with  you,  you  cannot  be  taken  from 
us! 

JESHUA.  Kephas!  And  when  I  am  gone,  many 
will  come  with  my  name  and  lead  some  astray.  It 
will  be  a  time  of  bitter  conflict.  Wars  and  rumors 
of  wars,  nation  risen  against  nation,  kingdom  against 
kingdom,  the  earth  laid  waste,  and  you  marked  men, 
the  butt  of  all  men's  spleen,  because  of  me.  There 
will  come  false  Messiahs  and  false  prophets,  seeking 
to  lead  even  you  astray.  But  keep  your  courage; 
it  is  my  Father's  will.  And  afterward,  the  kingdom 
shall  come!  Heaven  and  earth  may  pass,  but  my 
word  shall  not  pass. 

JOCHANAN.     Master,  when  shall  this  be? 

JESHUA.  None  knows  that  day  but  the  Father 
alone.  Yet  if  it  come  in  your  generation —  I  can 
say  no  more!  My  heart  is  heavy  for  you.  Leave 
me  for  a  little  while.  I  shall  call  you  soon. 

They  are  troubled,  and,  leaving  him  behind,  go 
out  silently  up  the  slope  toward  the  left  and  so  out. 
He  watches  them  until  they  disappear,  and  then 
sinks  into  a  muse,  from  which  he  is  aroused  by  the 
choking  sob  of  Ruth  as  she  comes  forward.  He 
takes  a  step  back. 

RUTH  (approaches).    Jeshua,  don't  go? 

JESHUA.     It  were  better  so. 

He  steps  slowly  toward  the  left  front  and  is  on 
the  point  of  going  out,  Ruth  still  following. 

RUTH.  No,  no,  don't  go!  Oh-oh,  my  God,  he 
is  gone!  (She  shrieks.)  Jeshua!  Jeshua! 

She  totters  and  partly  falls  on  the  mill,  rises  and 


142       THE  MESSIAH  OVERCOMES 

is  about  to  fall  again,  moaning.  After  a  moment's 
hesitation,  he  steps  firmly  to  her,  supports  her  as 
she  partly  faints  on  his  arm,  leads  her  to  the  rock 
ledge  at  the  left  of  the  cave,  lets  her  down  gently 
to  a  sitting  position  and  attempts  to  withdraw  his 
arm.  She  opens  her  eyes,  stares  wildly  at  him  and 
clings  to  his  arm. 

RUTH.     No,   no,  no,  Jeshua! 

He  withdraws  his  arm  and  steps  back.  She  sinks 
down,  slipping  off  the  rock,  and  coming  to  her  knees, 
she  sobs. 

RUTH.  He — he  leaves  me!  Do  you  despise  me 
so,  Jeshua? 

JESHUA.  It  is  better  that  I  leave  you  now.  Was 
that  your  maid  at  the  Kidron  bridge?  I  will  send 
her  to  you. 

He  starts  to  go  out  at  the  left  front. 

RUTH  (passionately).  Then  it  is  not  true,  what 
they  say  of  you,  after  all.  The  friend  of  sinners? 
Bah!  Go,  hypocrite! 

She  has  risen  and  points  at  him  with  scorn.  He 
turns  and  looks  at  her  amazed.  A  pause.  Then 
she  breaks  down. 

RUTH.     Jeshua! 

She  falls  on  the  rock  sobbing.  He  hesitates,  evi 
dently  passes  through  a  struggle,  and  comes  to  a  de 
cision;  for  he  steps  to  her  and  rests  his  hand  on  her 
head. 

JESHUA.  Forgive  me,  Ruth;  I  did  not  under 
stand. 

She  breaks  out  afresh  sobbing,  reaches  up  to  hit 


ACT  III  143 

hand  and  draws  it  down  to  her  lips,  kissing  it. 

RUTH.     O  Jeshua! 

JESHUA.     What   is   it,   child? 

She  continues  to  sob.  He  sits  on  the  rock  to  the 
left  of  her  and  draws  her  hand  between  his  two. 
With  a  little  cry  she  turns  to  him  on  her  knees, 
bows  her  head  on  his  knee  and  weeps  silently.  He 
gently  places  his  right  hand  on  her  head  and  strokes 
her  hair. 

JESHUA.     There,  my  child;  cry  away. 

A  long  pause  intervenes  in  which  her  sobs  dimin 
ish.  Then  silence.  Then  she  speaks,  but  without 
looking  up. 

RUTH.     Jeshua? 

JESHUA.     Yes,  Ruth? 

RUTH.     I  m-must  confess — 

JESHUA.  It  is  not  necessary;  that  is  all  past 
now.  Look  at  me,  Ruth? 

He  tries  to  raise  her  head;  but  she  resists. 

RUTH.  Not  yet;  I  cannot  yet.  Let  me  talk  this 
way.  But  you  must  listen  to  me,  and  then  you  need 
never  see  me  again.  I — I  shall  keep  out  of  your  way. 
So  let  me  speak. 

JESHUA.     If  you  wish  it,  my  child. 

RUTH.  I  have  always  loved  you,  Jeshua,  from 
the  day  you  ran  through  our  hedge  and  found  me 
in  tears  because  the  thorns  tore  so.  And  I  was  so 
angry  you  did  not  seem  to  notice.  Th-then  you 
went  from  me  after  that  prophet,  and  I  wept  all  that 
night  and  many  nights  afterwards.  But  you  did  not 
come  back,  and  I  went  to  Jerusalem.  There  I  sent 


144       THE  MESSIAH  OVERCOMES 

Abigail  to  you  to  let  you  know  I  was  in  the  City; 
but  you  did  not  come  to  me.  So  when  one  day  I  heard 
you  had  gone  back  to  Galilee  and  were  teaching 
there —  Oh,  I  was  angry  because  I  saw  you  were 
avoiding  me.  Why  did  you  go? 

JESHUA.  Must  we  talk  of  this?  (She  nods.) 
The  Father  called  me.  How  could  I  give  up  my 
mission  ? 

RUTH.  Yet  you  did  avoid  me.  And  hate  began 
to  burn  and  burn,  until  I — I  went  mad,  I  think.  At 
least,  one  day  he  came  along,  and — 

JESHUA.     Please? 

RUTH.  And  I  thought  I  would  show  you  how 
lightly  I  could  consider  what  you  so  lightly  threw 
away. 

JESHUA.     Ruth! 

RUTH.  I — I  thought  it  would  make  you  un 
happy;  but  you  did  not  seem  to  care.  Then  my 
soul  died  in  me,  and  I  resolved  to  balk  your  mission 
and  thus  force  you  to  take  thought  of  me. 

JESHUA.     Poor  child! 

RUTH.  It  was  I  that  stirred  up  the  priests 
against  you,  I  that  had  those  rabbis  sent  to  Kaphar- 
nahum  to  catch  you  in  your  teaching,  it  was  I  that — 
How  can  I  tell  it? 

JESHUA.     Please,  Ruth;  is  it  necessary  to  go  on? 

RUTH  (fiercely).  You  must  know  the  worst. 
I  have  even  corrupted  one  of  your  disciples  with  the 
promise  of  my  love,  and,  and  he  has  betrayed  you, 
oh-h! 

JESHUA.     Calm  yourself,  Ruth. 


ACT  III  H5 

She  looks  at  him  in  amazement. 

RUTH.  You  are  not  surprised?  You  already 
know? 

JESHUA.    I  know. 

RUTH.  But  it  must  not  be!  There  is  still  time. 
Give  up  this  mad  mission ;  come  away ;  I  will  hide 
you  until  it  blows  over,  and  then,  then  you  can  go 
back  to  your  old  life. 

JESHUA.  And  what  then?  What  of  Jerusalem, 
what  of  my  people,  when  I  shall  have  deserted  them  ? 
What  can  you  give  instead? 

RUTH.  N-nothing.  Only  it  means  death  if 
you  persist,  and  I  don't  want  you  to  die,  Jeshua! 
(She  rises  to  her  feet  quickly.)  How  you  must 
hate  me!  Goodbye;  let  me  go;  I  shall  not  bother 
you  again.  Only,  Jeshua,  go  from  here  before  it 
is  too  late! 

She  steps  back,  but  cannot  leave  him.     He  rises. 

JESHUA.  It  cannot  be.  Had  you  done  nothing, 
still  must  death  have  come  from  my  people.  My 
death  lies  not  at  your  door.  Go  in  peace ! 

She  looks  at  him  in  wonder. 

RUTH.  Then — you — do  not — hate  me?  But 
(despairingly)  you  must  despise  me.  Oh,  why  did  I 
ever  do  it? 

She  turns  hurriedly  from  him. 

JESHUA.  Ruth,  I  have  never  hated  and  I  cannot 
despise  you.  You  have  been  very  foolish;  but  it 
is  not  too  late. 

RUTH  (bitterly).  Not  too  late?  Can  I  annul 
the  results  of  my  plot  against  you?  Can  I  recall 


146       THE  MESSIAH  OVERCOMES 

my  lost  innocence?  Oh,  Jeshua,  shame  overwhelms 
me;  I  am  past  mercy! 

JESHUA  (steps  to  her).  Ruth,  come.  (He  draws 
her  to  him  and  kisses  her  on  the  forehead.)  I  for 
give  you! 

She  lingers  a  moment,  and  then  breaks  away. 

RUTH.  No,  I  am  not  worthy!  He  forgives  me! 
My  shame  is  complete! 

She  goes  out  sobbing  at  the  right  front.  He  looks 
after  her  sorrowfully  until  she  disappears,  then 
turns  and  with  great  emotion  enters  the  cave  and 
kneels,  praying  brokenly. 

JESHUA.  Father, — it  is  more  than  I  can  bear — 
None  understands —  Must  it  be? —  You  can  do 
everything, — Father —  Take  this  cup  from  me — 
They  are  so  weak —  How  can  I  leave  them  yet? — 
Yet  not  what  I  will, — only  what  you  do, — Father! 
(He  groans,  goes  up  the  slope  toward  the  left  and 
looks  off,  shakes  his  head  sorrowfully  and  returns, 
looks  about  in  agony  and  exclaims.)  Alone!  (He 
reenters  the  cave  overwhelmed,  kneels  and  groans. 
A  pause.  Then  with  growing  triumph.)  My 
Father, — if  this  cannot  be — except  I  drink  it — 
Your  will  be  done! 

Faint  music  seems  to  fill  the  air,  so  faint  that  it 
may  be,  probably  is,  but  the  whisper  of  the  morning 
wind  awakening.  He  rises  and  steps  forth  from  the 
cave  with  face  illumined.  Again  he  goes  up  the 
slope  toward  the  left  and  out. 

JESHUA  (off  stage).  Asleep,  Kephas?  Could 
you  not  watch  with  me  one  hour? 

SYMEON  (off  stage).    Master,  we  were  weary, — 


ACT  III  147 

and  we  fell  asleep. 

Jeshua  reenters  and  comes  down  the  path  to  the 
garden,  followed  immediately  by  Symeon,  Jacob 
and  Jochanan,  who  still  show  signs  of  having  been 
quickly  aroused  from  sleep.  As  they  converse,  lights 
begin  to  flash  through  the  trees  below  at  the  left  and 
confused  voices  arise.  At  the  same  time  the  other 
Disciples,  except  Judas,  enter  hurriedly  down  the 
slope  from  the  left  and  come  to  the  garden,  where 
they  gather  together  behind  their  Master. 

JESHUA.  It  matters  not  now.  The  hour  is 
come;  my  betrayer  approaches. 

SYMEON.  Your  betrayer,  Master?  Who  be 
trays  you? 

They  all  gather  about  him. 

JOCHANAN.     Master,  who  comes? 

JACOB.     I  thought  I  saw  Temple  Guards! 

THOMAS.     Shall  we  hide? 

A  VOICE  (off  stage).  You  are  sure  this  is  the 
path? 

SECOND  VOICE  (off  stage).  What  if  he  knows? 
Perhaps,  they  are  armed. 

THIRD  VOICE  (off  stage).  Come,  think  you,  he 
will  give  us  the  slip? 

-JUDAS  (off  stage).     Quick,  this  way!    They  are 
not  armed.     Come! 

Judas  enters  the  garden  at  the  left  front,  accom 
panied  by  Amraphel  and  followed  by  Temple 
Guards.  Four  of  these  carry  blazing  torches  and 
the  rest  carry  spears.  All  wear  short  swords.  They 
quickly  divide  into  two  squads,  one  squad  proceed- 


1 48       THE  MESSIAH  OVERCOMES 

ing  toward  the  right  and  drawing  up  facing  Jeshua 
and  the  Disciples,  the  other  drawing  up  at  the  left 
facing  the  first  squad,  with  Jeshua  and  the  Eleven 
between.  While  this  is  taking  place,  Judas  steps 
quickly  to  Jeshua. 

JOCHANAN  (aghast).    Judas! 

OTHER  DISCIPLES  (murmur  angrily).  Traitor 
ous  prince ! —  The  proud  Judean  betrays  us ! —  We 
are  undone! 

AMRAPHEL.    Halt!    Ground  spears! 

JUDAS.     Master! 

He  kisses  his  Master  and  steps  back. 

JESHUA  (sadly).  Judas,  is  it  for  this  you  have 
come? 

AMRAPHEL.     Seize  him! 

Four  Guards  leap  forward  from  the  left  toward 
Jeshua  and  the  rest  level  spears.  Several  Disciples 
surround  him  and  intervene  between  him  and  the 
advancing  Guards.  Symeon  rushes  at  the  foremost, 
strikes  him  with  his  fist  and  snatches  away  his  sword, 
brandishing  it. 

SYMEON.  For  David  and  his  kingdom !  To  the 
fray,  men! 

He  strikes  off  the  Guard's  ear,  who  howls  with 
pain,  claps  his  hand  to  his  ear  and  jumps  back. 
Simultaneously  Jeshua  thrusts  himself  roughly 
through  the  intervening  Disciples,  grasps  Symeon 
and  pulls  him  back. 

JESHUA.  Desist!  Put  away  the  sword!  Who 
wields  the  sword  dies  by  the  sword !  The  cup  that 
my  Father  has  given  me,  shall  I  not  drink  it? 


ACT  III  149 

Symeon  looks  at  him  in  horrified  amazement. 

SYMEON.  Master,  you  wont  fight,  then?  You 
wont  fight?  (He  throws  up  his  hands  and  cries 
out.)  Duped!  Duped  at  the  last! 

As  the  sword  falls  from  his  hand,  he  runs  off  up 
the  slope  and  goes  out  at  the  left.  The  other  Dis 
ciples  waver,  then  gradually  withdraw  along  the 
path  he  has  taken  until  at  the  arrest  only  Judas  re 
mains.  At  Symeon's  flight  the  Guards  laugh  bois 
terously. 

AMRAPHEL.     Silence! 

JESHUA.     Whom  do  you  seek? 

AMRAPHEL.     Jeshua  of  Nazareth. 

Jeshua  takes  a  step  toward  him,  and  the  Guards 
fall  back  a  pace. 

JESHUA.  I  am  he.  So  you  come  here  with 
swords  and  torches  as  if  for  a  bandit!  And  yet  for 
the  last  five  days  I  have  stood  in  the  Temple  teach 
ing,  and  you  dared  not  touch  me!  But  here  I  am. 

AMRAPHEL  (lays  hand  on  him).  Jeshua  of  Naz 
areth,  I  arrest  you  in  the  name  of  the  Sanhedrin, 
who  charge  you,  on  the  witness  of  Chiefpriest  Annas 
and  Prince  Judas,  with  blasphemy  and  sedition.  (  To 
the  Guards.)  Bind  him! 

They  seize  and  bind  him.  At  the  same  time  Sym 
eon  reenters  above  at  the  left  and  cautiously  comes 
down  the  slope  in  contrition  and  trepidation.  As 
they  begin  to  take  Jeshua  off,  the  Guards  laugh  and 
go  out  at  the  left  front,  their  captain  accompanying 
them. 

GUARDS.  Ha,  ha!  What  a  king!  Hail,  king! 
Where  is  your  court,  ha,  ha!  We  shall  remedy 


150      THE  MESSIAH  OVERCOMES 

that, —    Give  you  a  crown  and — 

The  voices  die  away  in  the  distance  and  the  flash 
ing  torchlight  disappears.  Judas  watches  the  depar 
ture,  then  turns  to  see  Symeon  step  down  into  the 
garden  and  begin  to  follow  out  at  the  left  front. 

SYMEON  (hisses).    Traitor! 

JUDAS  (laughs  bitterly).  Brave  Symeon,  that 
ran  away,  too! 

SYMEON.     But  I  will  find  him  yet! 

He  goes  out.  Judas  laughs  uncomfortably  and 
turns  in  time  to  see  Ruth  enter  from  the  right  front. 
He  approaches  her  and  speaks  gladly. 

JUDAS.  Israel  is  saved,  and  the  kingdom  is  sure! 
Rejoice  with  me,  Ruth!  But,  but  you  are  silent? 
Can  you  not  rejoice  with  me?  Come,  tell  me  you 
are  satisfied? 

He  opens  his  arms  to  her,  but  she  repels  him. 

RUTH.     I  am  satisfied.     Go! 

JUDAS.  What  is  the  meaning  of  this?  Is  it 
possible?  My  God,  it  cannot  be,  Ruth!  Now 
that  your  hate  is  satisfied,  you  discard  me?  No,  you 
are  not  so  false! 

RUTH  (scornfully).     Go! 

He  catches  hold  of  her  roughly  and  speaks  pas 
sionately. 

JUDAS.  I  will  not  go;  explain  yourself!  Why 
this  revulsion?  Have  I  not  done  all  you  asked  of 
me?  Have  I  no  right  to  claim  your  promise  now? 
Speak! 

RUTH  (calmly).  Not  an  hour  ago  I  promised 
to  return  to — ^Emilianus. 


ACT  III  151 

He  steps  back  dazed  and  looks  at  her  In  terror 
as  the  full  import  of  her  words  dawns  on  him. 
She  laughs  bitterly. 

RUTH.     Now  you  understand. 

JUDAS  (rages).  Understand?  You  return  to 
yEmilianus?  Then  the  stories  they  tell  are  true, 
and  you  are —  Oh,  my  God,  my  God,  what  have 
I  done?  A  wanton's  will,  and  I  thought  to  do 
thine!  But  he  shall  not  die!  (He  rushes  wildly 
toward  the  left  front.)  Ho,  guards,  guards!  Re 
lease  him!  (He  checks  himself.)  But  no,  it  is 
too  late.  But  you!  Cower,  you  wanton!  I  can 
not  despise  you;  you  are  beneath  the  contempt  of 
the  most  abandoned,  you  who  play  with  God's  plans 
to  gratify  your  lust! 

Ruth  holds  up  her  hands  as  if  to  ward  off  a  blow. 

RUTH.     Don't! 

JUDAS.  To  think  that  I  loved  you  once,  and 
believed  you  pure,  and  thanked  God  he  had  given 
me  you  to  work  with  for  the  kingdom  of  Israel, 
and  all  the  while  you  were  willing  food  to  the 
Roman,  oh-h! 

He  strikes  his  head  wildly. 

RUTH.     Don't! 

JUDAS.  So  beautiful,  too, — yet  using  your  body 
to  destroy  him  whom  I  have  now  betrayed!  It 
cannot  be  that  the  kingdom  must  come,  as  he  says, 
through  humility  and  submission;  the  prophets 
speak  of  a  conquering  king.  And  yet, — Oh,  God, 
I  am  in  a  maze! — he  did  stand  just  now  like  a 
king.  Could  they  have  held  him  against  his  choice? 
I  know  not;  it  is  all  dark.  But  this  I  know;  the 


152       THE  MESSIAH  OVERCOMES 

kingdom  cannot  come  through  lust.  And  I  be 
trayed  him  for  a  wanton's  kiss! 

Ruth  falls  back  as  if  struck. 

RUTH.     Oh! 

JUDAS  (in  a  frenzy).  Go  to  your  paramour! 
Wallow  in  your  shame !  And  God  damn  you  both — 
and  me! 

He  shrieks  and  rushes  out  wildly  at  the  right 
front.  She  breaks  down  weeping  on  the  rock  ledge 
at  the  left  of  the  cave.  After  a  while  her  maid 
enters  anxiously  at  the  left  front. 

ABIGAIL.  Mistress,  mistress!  (She  spies  Ruth 
and  runs  to  her.)  Mistress,  what  is  it? 

RUTH.  Go  away,  Abigail;  leave  me!  I  must 
be  alone! 

ABIGAIL  (puts  her  arms  about  her).  Come, 
darling,  what  is  it?  Don't  cry  so!  Did  the  prophet 
hurt  you?  Sweet,  let  us  go  home? 

She  tries  to  lead  her  away;  but  Ruth  resists. 

RUTH.     No,  no,  no,  no! 

Instead  she  pulls  her  maid  to  a  seat  beside  her  on 
the  rock  and  bursts  out  weeping  on  her  bosom. 

RUTH.  Oh — oh — oh!  They  are  taking  him 
away  to  his  de-death,  Abigail!  And  I  can  do  noth 
ing  to  stop  it!  But —  Oh!  (clutching  at  her  heart) 
my  heart,  it  hurts,  oh! 

ABIGAIL.    Sh-sh,  darling;  don't  get  excited,  dear! 

RUTH  (suddenly  smiles  through  her  tears).  Abi 
gail,  I  think  I  am  going  to  die  now. 

ABIGAIL.  Hush,  mistress;  it  is  blasphemy  to  talk 
so! 


ACT  III  153 

RUTH  (still  smiles).  You  don't  understand;  I 
am  so  happy ! 

ABIGAIL.  Sh-sh,  mistress.  Come,  we  must  go 
home,  the  moon  is  setting,  see! 

She  points  toward  the  front.  At  this  point  the 
moonlight  begins  to  fade  and  in  its  stead  the  first 
gray  light  of  dawn  filters  in.  Then  the  faint  rose 
of  dawn  creeps  over  the  unseen  edge  of  Olivet  and 
touches  the  trees  on  the  slope  and  in  the  garden. 

RUTH.  No,  Abigail.  And  I  promised  to  go  back 
to  yEmilianus,  if  only  he  would  leave  me  here  to 
night. 

ABIGAIL.  Oh,  I'm  so  glad!  Then  we  shall  see 
him  often! 

RUTH.     But  I — I  cannot  go  back  to  him — 

ABIGAIL.     Not  go  back? 

RUTH  (smiles).  And  then  Jeshua  came,  and  I 
looked  into  his  eyes!  I  was  so  afraid  to  look  into 
his  eyes!  I  knew  he  would  despise  me, — and  I 
could  not  endure  seeing  that!  But,  Abigail — 

ABIGAIL.     Yes,  dear? 

RUTH.  But  instead  I  saw  in  his  eyes  that  he 
loves  me!  And  then  it  was  like  a  dream.  How 
happy  I  was!  He  leaned  over  me,  and  I  felt  his 
breath  in  my  hair,  and  then —  Oh!  (clutching  at 
her  heart)  my  heart  is  mad  with  happiness!  How 
it  jumps,  oh!  Then  his  lips  pressed  my  brow,  and 
he  spoke.  How  gentle  was  his  voice!  I  never  knew 
it  was  so  gentle;  it  seemed  like  the  voice  of  God! 
He  knew  all  I  had  done,  and  yet,  he — he  forgave 
me,  Abigail! 

ABIGAIL.     What  nonsense  are  you  talking?  (She 


154      THE  MESSIAH  OVERCOMES 

rises.)   Come,  mistress,  let  us  go  home? 

RUTH  (holds  her  hand  to  her  heart  convulsively). 
Oh!  So  you  see  I  cannot  live  any  more!  (She 
smiles.)  I  think  he  understands  all.  Abigail,  what 
if  through  such  love  as  his, — the  kingdom  should 
come?  (Suddenly  she  staggers  to  her  feet  and 
points.)  Look!  .Jeshua  on  the  cross!  Jeshua,  my 
Lord! 

As  she  sinks  back  into  Abigail's  arms,  the  ruddy 
glow  of  dawn  melts  into  a  dense  roseate  mist  that 
blots  out  the  entire  scene,  while  gentle  sobbing  music 
of  exquisite  melancholy  swells  and  vibrates. 

VISION  III 

By  degrees  the  mist  grows  transparent  and  there 
unfolds  to  view  in  a  light  of  pure  burning  red  the 
bare  knoll  of  a  hill,  over  which  hang  heavy  red 
clouds.  On  this  knoll  stands  a  high  cross,  on  which 
hangs  the  bleeding  figure  of  Jeshua,  stript  to  the 
loin-cloth.  His  head  hangs  as  if  in  utter  exhaus 
tion,  and  he  appears  in  pain.  Over  his  head  the 
cross  bears  the  legend,  'REX  WDAIORUM.'  At 
the  left  and  right  of  this  cross,  but  shorter  than  it, 
are  two  other  crosses,  on  which  two  Criminals  hang, 
also  stript  to  the  loin-cloth.  They  are  coarse,  rough, 
muscular  fellows,  the  one  at  the  left  perhaps  more 
brutish  than  the  other.  Three  quaternions  of  Ro 
man  Soldiers  guard  the  crosses  and  keep  the  Peo 
ple  back.  A  Roman  Centurion  patrols  behind  the 
crosses,  haughty  and  aloof.  A  surging  crowd  of 
People  throngs  the  slopes  of  the  hill.  Among  these 
are  seen  some  Priests,  Caiaphas  and  Annas.  A  little 
to  the  right  there  is  a  small  group  apart,  consisting 


VISION  III  155 

of  weeping  Women  and  three  or  four  Disciples, 
among  these  Jochanan  supporting  an  aged  Woman. 
For  a  while  the  weeping  of  the  Women  is  heard. 
Then  a  mocking  motif  arises  in  the  music  and  in 
terweaves  with  the  sobbing  motif.  One  of  the  two 
crucified  Criminals,  the  one  on  the  left,  laughs. 

CRIMINAL  ON  LEFT.  Ho  ho!  So  you  are  the 
Messiah,  they  say,  ha  ha!  Come,  save  yourself  and 
us,  why  not?  Ha! 

He  laughs  boisterously  and  some  of  the  bystand 
ers  join  in  the  laugh.  During  the  laughing  Symeon 
enters  shamefacedly  from  the  left  front  and  during 
the  following  unobtrusively  worms  his  ivay  to  the 
silent  group  of  Disciples  and  Women.  They  look 
at  him  askance,  and  he  stands  a  little  apart,  occasion 
ally  groaning  in  grief.  In  the  meantime  the  other 
Criminal,  the  one  on  the  right,  speaks  angrily  to 
the  first. 

CRIMINAL  ON  RIGHT.  Silence,  you  whoreson! 
Are  you  not  afraid  of  God,  now  that  you  too  are 
condemned  to  death?  You  and  I,  indeed,  justly 
enough ;  for  what  have  we  not  done !  But  he  has 
done  nothing  wrong.  (He  turns  his  head  toward 
Jeshua.)  Jeshua,  bear  me  in  mind  when  you  come 
to  your  kingdom ! 

The  First  Criminal  laughs  mockingly.  Jeshua 
slowly  lifts  his  head  and  looks  at  the  Second 
Criminal  with  a  wan  smile. 

JESHUA.  In  truth,  even  now  both  you  and  I 
are  at  the  very  threshold  of  Paradise! 

Judas  enters  at  the  left  front  and  stands  gazing  at 
his  dying  Master  in  anguish  and  despair.  Almost 


156       THE  MESSIAH  OVERCOMES 

immediately  Ruth  enters  distracted  at  the  right 
front.  As  soon  as  she  catches  a  glimpse  of  Jeshua, 
she  screams  and  falls  to  the  ground  in  a  faint.  In 
the  meantime  the  People  mock. 

PEOPLE.  So  ho!  you  will  destroy  our  Temple — 
Ha,  ha! —  Yes,  so  he  said —  And  build  it  up 
again  in  three  days! —  Magnificent!  Why  then, 
save  yourself! —  Come  down  from  the  cross!  No? 
Ha,  ha! 

CAIAPHAS.  Ha,  ha!  he  saved  others,  did  he?  At 
any  rate,  himself  he  cannot  save. 

Several  Priests  laugh.  Annas  steps  forth  and 
shouts  jeeringly,  his  shrill  voice  causing  several  to 
shudder. 

ANNAS.  Ho,  'King  of  Israel'!  Come  down 
from  the  cross  and  we  shall  believe  in  you,  David's 
son!  Ha! 

PRIESTS.  He  trusts  in  God —  Calls  himself 
God's  son —  Blasphemer! —  Then  let  God  deliv 
er  him, — if  he  will! —  What  do  you  say?  Ha,  ha! 

The  mocking  motif  dies  away,  the  sobbing  motif 
persists,  and  from  this  point  on  with  increasing 
strength  the  motif  of  victory  appears  and  mingles 
in  the  music.  Ruth  stirs  with  returning  conscious 
ness,  moans  and  attempts  to  rise.  At  the  same  time 
Jeshua  lifts  his  eyes  with  an  expression  of  sadness  and 
compassion. 

JESHUA.  Father,  forgive  them;  they  know  not 
what  they  do! 

Ruth  rises  to  her  knees,  stretches  out  her  arms 
and  moans. 

RUTH.     Jeshua,  my  Lord! 


VISION  III  157 

The  roseate  mist  thickens  and  by  degrees  blots 
out  everything  but  the  central  cross,  on  which  the 
figure  of  the  dying  Jeshua  stands  out  alone  dis 
tinctly  in  the  red  glow.  The  overhanging  clouds 
sink  lower  and  in  them  are  faintly  seen  Angels 
with  harps. 

JESHUA  (still  looks  up).  Father,  into  your  hands 
I  commend  my  spirit ! 

The  Angels  chant  to  the  accompaniment  of  their 
harps. 

ANGELS.  Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that  is  slain  to 
receive  the  power,  and  riches,  and  wisdom,  and 
might,  and  honor,  and  glory,  and  blessing.  For  he 
was  slain,  and  did  purchase  with  his  own  blood  men 
of  every  tribe  and  tongue  and  people  and  nation, 
and  made  them  to  be  unto  our  God  a  kingdom  and 
priests.  And  they  shall  reign  upon  the  earth.  For 
the  kingdom  of  the  world  is  become  the  kingdom 
of  our  Lord  and  of  his  Christ;  and  he  shall  reign 
forever  and  ever.  Hallelujah. 

As  the  chant  progresses,  gradually  the  clouds, 
Angels,  cross  and  last  of  all  Jeshua  dissolve  in  the 
darkening  mist,  while  the  chant  grows  ever  fainter 
as  if  from  increasing  heights.  Imperceptibly  it  fades 
into  gentle  music  that  suggests,  even  as  it  dies  away 
into  it,  the  silence  of  ineffable  peace,  and  the  lessen 
ing  light  yields  to  darkness. 


'"'"'" 


OVERDUE. 

-fiortns 


L.D  2l-lOOw-7,'33 


372221 


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